A little red line

A couple months ago we were home visiting my folks. These are great times for Little Elephant to interact with her Nana and Gyjshi (Grandpa in Albanian). They love having her around even when she does throw their routine into a tailspin.  She loves exploring the new space, playing with different toys, and generally being the center of the universe.

Growing up, my Dad was the cleaner in the house, the one who mopped and washed the clothes. I get my sense of clutter from my Mom.

After we left, my Dad returned the house to its order.  This time it was easier as Harley the shedding dog was not with us.  One day, my Dad noticed a red mark on the floor.  He cleaned it.  The next day he noticed more red marks.  He cleaned them and checked everyone’s shoes.  Then, more marks.  He asked my Mom if she had lipstick on her shoes! She did not. More red marks. More cleaning. More marks. Vacuuming. Mopping. Cleaning.

Turns out, one of my daughter’s red crayons had broken and lodged itself into the bottom of the vacuum cleaner, drawing all over the floor as he cleaned.



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