Facts They Never Told You #7

This fact is actually more a story, but the fact will be revealed at the end.

So Lucas was about 14 months old, and my mom (who takes care of Lucas and a few other kids during the week) decided it was time to show him how to color, especially since the other kids like to do it so much. We were pleasantly surprised at how well he did it, and how he knew very quickly both not to eat the crayons, as well as not to color on anything other than paper.

So we went to O'Charley's, a favorite for us. Not only because of the free bread, but because kids eat free. (There's a bonus fact for you: find restaurants where kids eat free.) They give Lucas crayons. We hadn't actually witnessed him coloring yet, so as we watched, he colored his menu, and did a relatively good job at staying on the paper. There was one incident where he attempted to color his oranges, but other than that, he didn't attempt to eat them, color his food, or use his food to color his paper. We were about ready to crown him as the next Albert Einstein.

We pile into the Jeep, on our way to Target. Evidently, we didn't have enough bookcases--because we like to read so much, I think we may need a house that is ALL bookcases at some point. About halfway between the restaurant and Target, I hear a "bleah" sound from the back seat. Now, I don't mean the "bleah" you say when someone says, "Hey, what did you think of that new Britney Spears song?" I mean the "bleah" you hear when someone barfs.

So I asked Erin to look back in the back, and she says, "No, everything is fine." Then..."Wait. He MAY have thrown up, I don't know." Then..."Wait..." and she holds something up in front of my face (always a good idea when driving). It was half a crayon. Half. Because the other half had been ingested and regurgitated all over his shirt.

Of course, Erin has to go to the bathroom, so I get to have the enjoyment of cleaning both dinner and tons of little crayon bits off his clothes. The key is not to make him spotless, because then the shirt would be soaked...but just to make him look clean enough where people aren't dialing DFS from their cell phones as you walk by, because you're obviously neglecting your child by making him wear his own puke.

The fact of this story: NEVER trust your kid. They may do something perfectly 100 times in a row, but the ONE time you turn your back, they are on the roof with a patio umbrella, have their head in an industrial paint shaker at Lowe's, or spewing crayon like a lawn sprinkler. More to come with this fact later.