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Monday, February 27, 2006Crayon is not my friendThis past weekend my Mom and Dad came up to help us get the house ready to sell. My Dad loves his toys, and he happens to have a few that are quite helpful. One of which is his paint spray gun. We bought a few buckets of paint and proceeded to prep the house for the onslaught of color. When we walked into the room that my daughters share, there was a gasp. Crayon. It covered the walls. I knew it was there, but had chosen to ignore it for a time in hopes that it would spontaneously disappear. It didn't, so we started to scrub. I had purchased many of the new Mr. Clean magic erasers which takes the evil waxy substance off of the walls, but it takes some scrubbing. It took three people over three hours to get the walls clean enough. We also went through thirteen magic erasers... Why didn't we just paint over the evil mess you ask? I didn't know before, but I have acquired the knowledge that crayon will bleed through any paint that you put on the walls. Even if you put a primer on before the color, it will still take several coats to get it right. Scrub away my friend. Sultry Husband's Dad also came up to help us out with the arduous task. He has a tendency to repeat himself when something hits him as interesting or annoying. Therefore I believe that he told me no less than two dozen times this weekend that I should lock the crayons up and throw away the key. After all the hard work, I have made a personal goal. Crayons will still reside in my home, they will just be used under supervision at all times. M also understands that if she ever colors on the walls again, she will scrubbing them right along with me. And I might throw away all of her toys in frustration. Perhaps I wouldn't go that far but she would be in very deep doo doo!
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