Don't you love it when posts start out this way?
I realize now how spoiled I was with my first child. "Incidents" involved things like bottles of chocolate syrup being spilled all over the living room and then mashed into the carpet, or entire jars of Vicks Vapo-Rub being smeared through his hair. One unhappy episode involved me ill-advisedly allowing him to play with the spice jars while I yakked on the phone to a friend living at the other end of the country. Who knew that a 3 year-old playing with a jar of dried hot peppers could be so disasterous? You know what happened--he rubbed his eyes. Well, these were the good old days.
My youngest is a 2 year-old hellion. On a good day, I secretly think of him as Rosemary's Baby. He has little interest in chocolate sauce and hot peppers (yet), but is oddly fascinated with the contents of his diaper, and more specifically what he can do with it. About 6 or 8 months ago, I opened his bedroom door to wake him up from his afternoon nap, to be met with the unmistakeable odour of poop and a wall mural that can only be described as inspired. Since then, we've had a handful more of these little events. I've yelled and not yelled, laughed and put on my serious face, filled his room with toys and books to keep him occupied and thrown out several poo-covered copies of Goodnight Moon, but nothing seems to stop little Poo-casso. I have noticed that the murals themselves are evolving. What was once a hypnotic series of smears and handprints now looks a little more like some long-forgotten series of ancient hieroglyphics, but let's move away from art appreciation for a moment...
For the record, the best way to remove dried poo from the wall is with a good brush for scrubbing and a bowl of soapy water. The best way to keep from murdering your toddler is to laugh. Hysterically. At everything.