Saturday, January 1, 2011


I was in my room the other day when Ben came running into me.

"Mommy, I not getting a spanking?" he asked.

Warning bells went off in my head. What has he done now?

"Ben, what did you do?"

"Mommy, I not getting a spanking?" he asked again.

Again I asked him what he did.

"Oh, just coloring."

I pictured my dining room, freshly painted, covered with pencil or marker and had to take a couple of calming down breaths.

"Ben, what did you color on?"

"Sompting. Mommy, I not getting a spanking??"

"What did you color on?" I asked again, wondering if he got the newly painted kitchen walls too.

"Come wis me. Follow me." he said, and I dutifully followed, dreading already what I would find.

I walked into the dining room to find Sam wiping off an old toy. "Ben colored on this" he said, "but I cleaned it off."

Big sigh of relief. And then I began to put every pen, pencil, crayon and marker out of Ben's reach, because I know next time I probably won't be so lucky.

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