Paint Job

This isn't a post about how Luke is giving me more trouble now than he did when he was 2 (and he's almost 3 1/2).  It's not about how he refuses to do things like get in the car until I've given up insisting that he do it, at which time he will do it.  It's not about how he terrorizes his sister with non-weapons-turned-weapons and prevents her from getting her homework done.  It's not about how he enjoys making messes of the scatter-a-roll-of-toilet-paper-all-over-the-upstairs variety.  Or about how he pours an entire bottle of liquid hand soap down the drain.  Or about how he enjoys using scissors too much.

Okay.  Maybe it's about those things a little bit.

But it's also about.... how in the world do I get WhiteOut off of this chair??

I suppose I should be thankful that we only had one little bottle.

And you know what, he's still super cute and fun and smart and I still love him to pieces.  I think that's what this post really is about.