Don't worry it's not blood....

So I find myself with a few quiet minutes in what is promising to be an extremely long week, and I smile thinking about my darling children quietly playing outside on our new playset.  Wait. They're being pretty quiet, it's too blissful. Maybe I should check on them.... NOW

It was red fingernail polish. Henry found it (thanks Harrison, master of shimmying up closet shelves). He painted every crevice of his tiny toes, front and back.... this picture doesn't do it justice. Then proceeds to walk through the grass and get bits of newly mowed lawn stuck in the tacky polish. It dries. It sticks.

I'm not going to bother removing it, I tried and it's just not coming off. Maybe a trip to the beach and a good exfoliating run in the sand will do the trick? Maybe?

It's going to be a very long week indeed.

(I guess I would rather it be fingernail polish than blood, right?)