Making The T-Shirt Fit The Crime

It all started so innocently. A bit of afternoon painting to fill up the time in between coming home from preschool and eating dinner. Sounds great right? Whatever could go wrong.

Allow me to present a photo essay of what could go wrong:

Declan likes to consider himself a post-modern impressionist.

He decided he needed a different application method.

I should probably make a crappy joke about being caught red handed here.

Right about this point I made the silly mistake of turning around to get Connor some milk. I turned back to see my eldest has moved on from paper and is now turning himself into an installation piece, smearing paint over his face and arms. Cue a quick dash to the bath with strict instructions not to touch anything.

Despite his protests I eventually convinced him it was going to take a little more than washing his hands to get rid of all the paint.

I’m not sure what’s worse about this photo, the state of his face or just how shaggy his hair is getting. The kid looks like he’s waiting for Fagin to contact him about an opening in the petty crime career path.

Lesson learned – never turn your back on a three year old when he’s armed with poster paint.

Little Conman was less that impressed with all the chaos.