I still stand by the notion that my son will be a tattoo artist one day. Or have many put upon his body.
All markers and pens are fair game in our house. We literally have to buy a new pack for school projects every time. The Boy can sniff out ink in any form. Like his blood is made of it. We all get so tired of trying to hide them, we just trash every one we come across.
Enter the Magna Doodle. I told Santa the boy needed something to write with and on that would not send me into Magic Eraser (good stuff!) mode every 30 minutes.
He loves it. He will write and erase for minutes at a time. The ability to make it disappear is just amazing to his bright eyes.
I come around the corner into the East Wing a while ago and I see him on the floor in front of the t.v. Very engrossed in his show. Beside him sits the Magna Doodle. Suddenly he is focused on writing. Furiously. Like he has to write or die!!
He then takes the attached pen of the Doodle and tries to write on the wall. Nothing. He writes on the Doodle. There is a black line. He tries to write on the wall again. Nothing. He shakes the "pencil" and tries yet again. Nothing.
Eyebrows are deeply furrowed in concentration. I stand behind him quietly to see what he will do next.
He THEN gets up. Moves the coffee table. There is an orange crayon. Stashed away. He picks up the crayon and heads to the wall.
"UH UH UH UH!!!" I say. Loudly. He is shaken.
I hold my hand out and he looks at the crayon. He looks at me. A deep mournful sigh comes from his belly and he hands the crayon over.
He then sits back down and is immediately engrossed in his show again.
I'm adding to my notion. We'll probably have to bail him out of jail a few times for graffiti. I guess when the feeling hits....ya just gotta go with it.