That time Owen painted his brother...

Life with two boys is certainly an adventure. And yesterday was probably the biggest, most hilarious (afterwards) craziness they have ever gotten into.            It began when I walked into Owen's room to find he had dumped out all four of his red storage bins from his bookcase. I told him to please put the toys back in them and not to come out of his room until he was finished. I then went into the kitchen to do the dishes and fold some laundry as I was trying to get out house picked up and clothes clean so we could get ready for traveling for Thanksgiving. 

I heard lots of noise coming from Owen's room, but thought nothing of it because cleaning up for Owen means a lot of throwing stuff where it belongs. It wasn't until Graham came toddling out of the bedroom looking like Mel Gibson in Braveheart that I knew something much more sinister was going on. 

Owen had somehow broken the doorknob protector off the door to his closet where I store things I don't want him getting into (for good reason, obviously) and had gotten into all his art supplies, taking every cap off every marker he owns, opening paints and painting his brother's face and his own, dumping out crayons and beads and puffy paint and glue and the entire inside of the closet was a mess. 

I dumped both boys in the bath and was able to clean up relatively quickly (somehow they managed to keep the majority of the paint on themselves and not the walls and furniture, thankfully) and all was well, but it was definitely an early bedtime and mommy needs to relax type of night last night. 

So the moral of the story is this: check on your sons every 2.5 minutes (if not more often) or they could be painting one another.