Crime Scene at the Hawkins' House

Had you visited our house over the weekend, you would have sworn a vicious attack had taken place. Complete with blood spatter and evidence of a sub-par clean-up effort. Upon further investigation you would have realized it was not blood, but my favorite shade of OPI: Dutch Tulips. My living room and kitchen had been transformed to a dutch wonderland crime scene.

[Let me preface this little story with the fact that Johnny was home alone with Jack. Clearly disasters like this don't occur in the presence of a mother.] 

Over the last few weeks Jack has discovered my vast OPI collection which I kept in the bottom drawer in the bathroom. He loved all the bright colors and would line them up side-by-side on the bathroom floor, push them around like little cars, and shake them like maracas to hear the little bead inside. I didn't mind because he was always under my supervision and it kept him occupied for 15 precious minutes so I could get ready for work in the mornings.

Johnny had the day off on Friday and the boys got to spend some man time together. I'm sure I'll never know the true series of events (in true crime fashion) but it must have involved some level of non-supervision. I received a frantic 10 second phone call that sounded something like this: "OH MY GOD! IT'S EVERYWHERE! EVERYWHERE! CARPET! SINK! JACK NO!" click. You can imagine where my mind wandered. About 20 minutes later I got a somewhat less panicked update. "Somehow" Jack got a hold of two nail polishes, wandered into the living room, and proceeded to beat them together like tambourines. By the time Johnny realized what was going on, there was a steady flow of Dutch Tulips running down Jack's arm. (Keep in mind the blood-like appearance of this color - I can only imagine Johnny's initial panic.)

By the time Johnny got a hold of the cracked bottle the damage was done. The coffee table, sofa, and rug had already received a healthy spattering. I'm not sure exactly which route he took to the kitchen, but I'm pretty sure it involved some type of bizarre chinese fire drill... and maybe a few cartwheels. The hardwood floors, kitchen cabinets, and counter tops all showed evidence of the disaster.

The clean-up was more successful than I thought it would be. In my nail polish remover induced altered state of mind, I forgot to take "before" pictures of the damage, so the few pictures I have certainly don't capture the chaos. Luckily, the nail polish remover cleaned up all the hard surfaces. The rug and sofa didn't fare so well. We flipped the cushions on the sofa as well as the rug. (Thank you Pottery Barn, for your genius braided jute rug and all of its reversible glory). Only small bits of evidence remain:

A nice splatter effect on the chair arm.

Smears and fingerprints all over the couch cushion. Good thing cushions have two sides!

Jack's new kicks now have a nice pink tint to them. He's man enough to wear pink.

 The worst of the damage was to the rug - which I made worse by trying to remove with nail polish remover... which was then made even worse by trying to cut out the stained fibers.... then (impossibly) made worse by trying to Oxyclean it away. I regret not photographing it before flipping the rug.

Needless to say, the surviving members of my OPI collection have been relocated.