Crayola Doesn't Give a Crap About Your Happiness

I’d like the home address of the sadist over at Crayola Corp. who decided to market non-washable markers. Only so I can stop by for a visit, nothing more than a quick hello and then defile his front door like a subway wall.

Somehow a box of non-washable markers ended up commingling with our docile washable ones. And every time I think I’ve weeded out the last non-washable one, some child manages to swipe a permanent line across her shirt. So we’re at the point where a sober adult needs to supervise all coloring sessions with the intensity of a prison guard.

And this is some freaking awesome development because when Ben and I talked about having kids I was all…I’ll be in charge of marker inventory! Ohohoh, also can I head-up Barbie clothes and accessory organizing too?

Ben and I have found it works well if one of us monitors the marker usage, while the other stands-by on the ready. For instance, if the supervising parent becomes distracted by something a little more interesting than overseeing a box of markers, like say a loose thread on shirt sleeve, the other back-up supervising parent can shout the alert: Non-washable aqua blue marker moving toward upholstered chair...

Read the rest at Bueno Baby.