It’s been a long weekend. Yes, still tired, still sick, the weather was weird—hot and pouring rain on Saturday, grey and much cooler on Sunday—and we didn’t get much of a break with Mark. In this case, I go into “survival mode”, also known as “damage control”. Basically, as long as we make it through without too much drama and without too many cookie crumbs on the couch (how many times do I have to repeat that sticky jam-based cereal bars must be eaten outside?!), I’m okay. Okay-ish.
On Sunday, Mark and I were assembling a jigsaw my mum sent us. Mark is still a bit young for these and he was getting frustrated. So I decided to number the pieces since he loves numbers. After two pieces, he asked to write the numbers by himself so I let him hold the pen. Then he asked for numbers on his hand, so I numbered his fingers.
Then I went off script and drew a backhoe on his palm with a sun, and another one on the other hand.
Mommy doing something silly. Shocking. (If only he knew…)
Then I remembered that I was using a Sharpie pen, the semi-permanent kind (relax, it washes off just fine).
“No, no picture, mommy!” Mark said. “Daddy! Daddy come see!”
Little brat. Told me off to his dad.
Do you think tattoo artist for toddlers could be a new part-time gig?