Once again, Jules' desire for girly fashion has gotten the best of her. Believe me, after the last debaucle (an entire bottle of Purple Passion on the floor of our Hershey bedroom one month before move-out), she is FULLY aware that she is not allowed to paint her nails by herself.
Anyway...
Earlier in the day we painted our nails together, over newspaper, very carefully. Once I cleaned everything up, everyone was dry and beautiful, I placed my tupperware container of polish on the stairs so I could take it up on my next trip. My next trip was obviously not soon enough.
Hours later, Nat came to me, "Mom, wait until you see what Jules did. It's bad!" Wearily, I say, "What now?" As if on cue, out comes Jules covered in "Brilliant Red." Her nails were painted from the first knuckle up and her toes looked like she was simply dipped. There was some in her hair and all down her belly. When I went to the scene of the crime, it was atrocious. There was the entire bottle, little mixing ball bearing and all, poured onto the beige carpeted steps which face the front door. The polish had already completely soaked through the fibers down to the matting.
I immediately started carpet clean-up and requested John clean the suspect and put her to bed. I knew my temper was likely to get the best of me if I had to deal with her. To ensure his didn't get the best of him (which it actually never does), I hid the evidence until after she was in bed.
After many hours, 1.5 bottles of Goo Gone, 1/2 bottle of dish soap, some Coke (who knows, thought I'd give it a try), the sham-wow, terry cloth towel, scrub brush and an emergency borrowing of my sister-in-law's steam cleaner, only a faint pink tinge can be seen. I don't know. We'll see if there is anything else we're going to do about it... besides completely banning all nail polish, that is.
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