After I finished teaching violin lessons, I walked into the kitchen. My ten-year-old daughter was standing there. I looked down. Her legs were completely covered in marker drawings. It looked like she had visited some sort of tatoo parlor.
"What the heck did you do?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"I was bored," she replied.
"And you couldn't find something a little more constructive to do?"
I looked at the drawings. They were actually pretty good. Even her feet and toes were covered. "Well, young lady," I said. "Your artwork is very nice. But next time, do it on paper." Then I added, "I certainly hope that stuff is washable."
"It is," she said. "I knew you wouldn't let me walk around long like this, so I used washable marker."
Well, I'm glad she at least had the good sense to think ahead. If it were my son, I'm sure he'd be markered up for the rest of his life!