Nothing like paint fumes in the morning...

I woke up yesterday morning and just laid in bed for a minute wondering... what is that smell?  Then I realized I heard water running and little voices coming from the kitchen, so I looked at the clock (not even 6am), swore, and got up to see what was going on.

Isabelle and Zoe were at the kitchen sink.  It took me a few seconds to fully process what I was seeing.... two of my children... two cans of spray paint... HOLD IT!  Spray paint?  SPRAY PAINT!?!?!?

OH MY GOD.

Yes.  Spray paint.  Red and yellow spray paint. 

I didn't see much damage in the kitchen.  A little paint on the floor, which wiped up without a problem.  The sprayer on the sink was ruined, but the sink and faucet wiped up.  I asked what they sprayed.  As calmly as possible (which was probably scarier than if I had lost it).  They pointed to the laundry room.

I wish I had gotten a picture of the wall and floor, but I was far more concerned with getting it off before it was too far gone.  It was the kind of spray paint for plastic, and I'm assuming that was a blessing because I really didn't expect to be able to get it off.  An hour of scrubbing with Magic Erasers and (aside from the sprayer) everything that was not our property (we rent, of course) was paint free. 

But the wall and floor seriously looked like someone had been shot in there.   If I had stumbled in there not knowing what had happened, I would have been looking for a body.  For real.

Unfortunately, my washing machine looks like this now...



How did they get spray paint?  I honestly am not quite sure how they did it.  The shelf it was on is taller than me... I have trouble getting stuff off of it.  Bill had removed one of the ladders on the bunk beds last week and I know that was involved, but it still would have required some pretty dangerous climbing.

We still haven't gotten all the paint off of the girls, either.  We tried all sorts of stuff... cooking spray, Bill's mechanic hand cleaner, different soaps... it's just going to have to wear off.  They look diseased.  It's gross and Isabelle is embarrassed by it.  Hate that for you, Dennis.

The girls had to spend part of their morning scrubbing the walls in the hall (they didn't paint there, it was just the first thing I could think of) and do time in their room.  Isabelle fell asleep during her time out and was out for hours, so God only knows how long they had been up.

I spent all day trying to figure out what to do to keep Isabelle from doing things like this.  Trying to figure out what is making her act out.  They're ready for summer to be over, everything is getting old and boring.  Let me just say, if you want to run for some sort of office and want my vote... promise me  year-round schools.  I guarantee I'll pimp myself out on the side of the road for you right about now.