09 July 2013

No One's to Blame, Not Even the Sharpie

Remember the hardwood dining table I bragged showed off shared with you here and here? I was so happy when my husband told me about it. I think it's the most expensive thing (and the heaviest!) inside our house. Look at what my artistic daughter did...

After Cif, toothpaste and prayers.
Not just one. Huhu, chest pain. I need CPR.
Ooh. I'm sure you were thinking: I scolded her, yelled at her and got really mad. Wrong. I wept; not too much but too painful I can't release it. It sounded shallow and materialistic but I longed for this furniture. I love food and cooking that I really, really wished to have a nice dining table to pair it with (aside from wishing to have a spacious airy kitchen with island counter). A table that would be the witness of endless chikahan over the dishes I cooked for my family.


Sigh. I should have listened to that little fab person inside me telling me to put a temporary table cloth to prevent unnecessary scratches. I wanted to blame myself so I did all that I can to put back its once shiny flawless face, to no avail. So I just gave up. I talked to my husband about it over the phone, who by the way wanted to blame me but didn't push through with it; perhaps he knew I was already in pain, I talked to the little punk. I told her that I was not mad at her, because she kept on saying sorry. I confess momma, it was an accident. I was doing the laundry, the bond paper's too thin and she was using my Sharpie too hard on it that it went through it. I saw confusion in her eyes.

But we have moved on.

A week or so after, using my Sharpies again...

That is the "wiped" look already. So imagine how it was before. I can hear Hello Kitty purring in dismay.
Holyschmoly Ms. Rayala! I took a deep breath and tried to use my domestic queen-ness on the poor face of Hello Kitty. Well, looks like the manufacturer of Sharpie is true to its word. For them, a permanent marker IS permanent.

REALIZATION.

I remember Pol Medina Jr.'s sketch as prologue on one of his Pugad Baboy comic books - one of her babies was doodling on their wall! Her wife said something that he was like that, too when he was a kid. What's my point? My almost 5-year-old could be an artist like my uncles, cousin and brother. So I don't want to be the big hindrance to her dreams and future passion. After all, I'm a homemaker, not a museum-keeper. 

I'm all for it, honeybunch. If you'll need my help in cleaning your art gallery, enslave me. Hehe. Just don't do any of the above again, okay? But miraculously, you haven't done any horrendous to our walls. Thank Heavens. 

One of her latest cute crayon sketches.
I think this is one role parents should take seriously. We could make or break our children's God-given talent. I know and met a lot of people who are living a simple life; too plain, satisfied with mediocrity and all their days done in routine. That's not how I want my child to live. It's always fun to live with an extra oomph, don't you agree? 

5 comments:

  1. awww.. I understand your pain Queen B. That's why I haven't bought an expensive furniture. I know my kids are gonna destroy it. For now, We are contented in the pre-loved furniture we got.

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  2. Oh my. I too longed for a DECENT dining table but I told myself not now, until the kids are older. Because I know time will come it will happen. Virtual hug.

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  3. It's safe to buy them the washable colored pens or crayolas.

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    1. Hi Donna! Yes, that's what I bought her but she borrowed my Sharpies kaya ayan. :)

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  4. Thank God never pa ginawa ng mga bagets yan. Malala na siguro un sa bedsheet. Naku no - no yan dito ang magagalit ung aking pudra na aming dakila ring pintor ng aming bahay... Baka marinig ko na naman, " Papalayasin ko na kayo eh puro kayo perwisyo dito sa bahay. " Hahaha.

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