Monster creation, step one: Stickers and crayons

Little Miss Fine Motor Skills was introduced to the wonders of stickers yesterday. Given the lukewarm reception that other art supplies have received, I wasn't expecting much. Ha. Let's just say, if she and the stickers were consenting adults, they'd be smoking cigarettes and eating breakfast by now.She made those stickers her bitch, I'll tell you that. Peeled them off the sheet, stuck them to the page, peeled them off the page, stuck them to her clothes. Peeled them off her clothes, stuck them to the floor. Peeled them off the floor, stuck them to her hand. And the furniture. And me. And these were regular, cheapo, nonrepositionable, rips-when-I-try-to-peel-them-up stickers. She's got mad skills with her fingernails.

And somewhere in there she managed to scribble all over the hardwood floor with blue crayon. Thank god for Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser. It took longer to give Liza the guilt trip about scribbling inappropriately than it did to clean up the scribble, which I think somewhat blunted the effectiveness of said guilt trip. Next time I think I need to scrub fruitlessly with a wet paper towel until she looks suitably chastened, then call in Mr. Clean.