Inattentive Parenting

This post could have several different titles. "Disaster," "A Bad, Bad Girl," "Nail Polish Debacle," all come to mind. We'll leave it as is.

This afternoon, Blythe had Ellen come over to play. They were outside and inside and needing a snack, and definitely in the picture so to speak. Kent and I were working on the main floor and Brandt was near us doing Legos, and I wasn't giving Blythe and Ellen much thought.  After being present, they disappeared, and I thought they had merely gone upstairs to play in Blythe's room. I thought wrong.

Staci arrived to pick Ellen up and Blythe came downstairs to inform us, somewhat sheepishly, that Ellen couldn't get her socks on because of the nail polish. Blythe's feet bore the hallmarks of polish application gone wrong. She had very colorful toes, not just toe nails. I went up to investigate and discovered a mess. Ellen's feet were covered with polish. It was nearly up to her ankles. I groaned and tried really hard not to yell. I was inclined to spank my daughter soundly, but managed to refrain. Staci had to take Ellen home barefoot. I assured Ellen the polish would come off before she turned 40, but I'm not entirely sure I wasn't lying trying to help us all feel better.

Kent suggested we get a lock for the hall closet, and put the polish as well as medications in it so the children (read Blythe) can't get to it.  I support him wholeheartedly.

 

The nail polish is kept in a basket at the very top of this closet. I haven't thought about it much because I have thought Blythe couldn't get it. Again, I was wrong.  Using two stools from our bedroom, two additional stools, and her Barbie computer, she was able to get high enough to get the basket down.

Blythe's feet on the left, Ellen's feet on the right.

While a bit of polish on the toes is a problem,

polish all over the feet is really, really bad.