Art(o)?

So one of my responsibilities as the stay at home parent is to cook, and ensure we always have food in the house for Hanna and I, and of course for little Isabella. This week Hanna and Isabella joined me as we went to the local supermarket to do our weekly shop. Now if I’m going alone once Hanna gets home in the evening I can get there and back in 45 minutes. I have my list at the ready and pretty much run around the isles knowing exactly where everything is that I need, it’s seamless, almost poetic. Doing it as a family though is an altogether different matter. Generally we go to the supermarket after Hanna has come home from work. Hanna is really dedicated at her job, and works hard, so when she’s out of work she understandably wants to completely relax and have fun…unfortunately this approach isn’t conducive to fast, efficient shopping. Within 30 seconds of entering the store the fact I have a well-prepared list seems to have completely slipped her mind, and I hear those terrifying words, “I’m just going to have a quick look over here”, whilst she practically skips away from me. I immediately realise I’m going to be stuck in this place for longer than I’d hoped. 30 minutes later Hanna returns, exclaiming she thought she’d lost me (forgetting it was her that wandered off in the first place), and carrying an armful of food, most of which I already have in the trolley, other than the 6 packets of biscuits she’s clutching. In fact she was carrying that much she’d offloaded some of it to Isabella, who was strapped into her babybjorn carrying a large pack of crayons. After getting questioned on every item I’d put in the trolley, and being asked to go back for more biscuits, we finally got to the till. Isabella was still clutching her crayons and the lady at the till kindly used the scanner gun on them to avoid us having to prise them for her ferocious grip and most probably start WW3. All the way home Isabella clutched these crayons like her life depended on it, going slightly cross-eyed as she pulled them close to give them a good hard stare.

Later that night, after Isabella had had her evening meal, we decided she should have a go at doing some scribbling. Where were those crayons?? We looked high and low, the kitchen, bedroom, in the bottom of the shopping bags, even in the car, but they were nowhere to be seen?? Where could they have gone!? Eventually we gave up, got Isabella ready for bed and said goodnight, I’m sure they’ll pop up eventually I thought…how right I was.

It’s at this point I should probably mention Arto. Arto is our neighbours’ dog. We have a shared front garden / parking spaces and Arto lives outside, night and day, acting as a strangely affectionate guard dog (if you don’t want to get licked to death, I’d stay away!!) Don’t ask me what type of dog he is, I don’t know, but he’s big, slobbery, and about the size of a German Shepherd, you know, the type that will eat pretty much everything…even crayons apparently.

The following morning went as normal, we sat in bed and had our morning coffee and cereal, with Isabella sat in front of us like a little lapdog demanding at least half of our Bran Flakes. Failure to comply will result in her yanking the bowl clean out of your hand. We then got up and followed Hanna downstairs to wave her off for work. What greeted us as we got to the see-through glass door can only be described as looking like the night after a pride festival….in a farm. Pooped out crayon lay everywhere, glistening in the morning sun like brightly coloured jewels. And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere!! It’s amazing how far a pack of crayons can spread, I’m telling you. I had visions of Arto cocking his leg and firing it out artistically over the floor, before inspecting his work. Majestic. As we opened the door and walked outside, whilst stepping around the easy to spot lumi-poo, we saw Arto lay against the wall, looking exhausted, and I’m not mistaken slightly apologetic. We both looked at each other confused, then burst out laughing realising what had happened, whilst internally hoping we weren’t about to inadvertently kill the neighbour’s dog. God only knows what they thought when they went outside that morning, I mean those colours were BOLD, but I wasn’t about to hang around to find out. After waving Hanna off I rushed back upstairs with Isabella and have been actively avoiding them ever since.

Anyway, a few days have now passed, and Arto seems back to his usual self. I still haven’t seen the neighbours but I’m hoping they’ll see the funny side. I keep picturing them walking around with a shovel, inspecting said lumi-poo, and wondering what on earth happened to their poor dog, whilst suspiciously looking up at our apartment window.  All that remains of that day now is streams of colour where the crayon has been washed away in the rain.

Isabella is now the proud owner of a new pack of crayons, at least righting some of our wrong. We made doubly sure to carry them safely into the house this time. She absolutely loved sitting and scribbling away with them, and only stopped when we took them off her as she’d decided she was going to eat them. She must’ve been impressed with Arto’s artistry and wanted some of the action!