The Nail Polish Incident

It had been a relatively quiet Friday night.  I should have known something was going to go wrong.  The house was just too quiet.  It seemed everyone was content or had fallen asleep early.

Until Cullen walked into the living room terribly upset yelling for Mommy, it took a downhill turn.

I glance over to see what could be wrong this time.  Did his finger get pinched?  Did he walk into a wall and hit his head?  Did his brother take a toy away from him?  He's three so everything is the end of the world.

All I see is red.  Red all over his fingers, his cast, and a lot of it running down his pants.  Add on the fact he is crying, and I am immediately start looking for the gash or cut all this blood is coming from.  That is until I kneel down beside him to pick him up and smell the distinct whiff of nail polish.  Any women knows that particular smell quite well.  There is no mistaking that scent.

I immediately went from concerned for the well being of my child to pissed off Momma ready to smack down my the offender of the heinous incident.  It's quite shocking this complete transition took about 0.3 seconds.

I yell for Andrew who was standing in the kitchen.  He comes running over concerned about the amount of 'blood' all over our son until I stand up, pass his son off to him, and say, "It's nail polish."

Running to the only place this could have happened, I find my OPI I'm Not Really A Waitress red nail polish all over the floor and inside the cabinet of my bathroom.  I'm running around grabbing cleaning supplies and paper towels to clean as much of this mess up as possibly before it starts to dry.

Andrew eventually wanders back into the bathroom to see how he can help with the little offender in tow.   Andrew starts taking off Cullen's pants that are soaked from crotch to knee on both of his legs and trying to clean it up.  I just look up and say, "The pants are ruined.  That will never come out."  And ladies, we all know how true that statement is.

Luckily, I was able to get the nail polish cleaned off the floor without any residue.  Cullen on the other hand, now has nail polish permanently on his cast until it comes off, along with some of the crevices of his finger nails.  I just couldn't get all of his off with my nail polish remover.

I have no idea what came over my boy to have him go back into our bathroom, into my cabinets, into my nail polish Rubbermaid box, get the red nail polish out, and open it.  Was he trying to paint his nails?  Was he just trying to paint?  No clue.  I'm just happy the entire bottle didn't spill and nothing besides his jeans were permanently ruined.  At least I'll have this story to tell him when he gets older.