I've reached the point in my parenting life (I have five kids, the oldest is 8 and the youngest is 1) where I can safely say I roll with most of the punches. Dominic (age 4) came into my room where I was reading to the older kids and asked if I gave Lily (age 3) some tattoos. The kids have gotten a bunch of temporary tattoos in treat bag recently, so while I didn't really like the idea of my 3 year old taking it upon herself to apply them, the news that she had wasn't completely shocking.
Except that it was a sharpie, not temporary tattoos.
sigh.
But you know what? I don't even care. Well, except that she had the sharpie without permission...
I'll scrub her down as best I can, but if it doesn't come off I'm not going to sweat it. The only place she's going this week is to the baby sitter, and our sitter has dealt with our kids since the oldest was 2, so *she* knows how to roll with the punches right there with me.
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