Honest is the Mind of a 3 year-old

Some things you just don't do in a rental

When my three daughters were small, they 'decorated' one of their wallpapered bedroom walls with crayons. 

After discussing the reasons why 'We don't draw on walls', I asked for promises it wouldn't happen again and apologies, because it had happened in the first place.  I received three age appropriate apologies that were just so cute I had to leave the room and laugh.

I remember calling Mama long distance that evening after the girls were asleep.  I shared what they had done with crayons and we both laughed when I told her how I had to work hard to keep a straight face as I heard their cute apologies. 

I also shared that I had already made plans to re-paper the bedroom, so I was glad this happened before I started the project.

This reminded Mama of something similar when I was three.  At the time, Daddy was in the Navy and she and I lived in a rental near the Naval base in Connecticut.  Daddy was due to come home in a week.  He would be leaving again, but for a short time anyway, we would have him with us.

Mama bought a paintbrush and a small can of black paint at the hardware store and she was able to get a partial role of white butcher's paper from the deli in town. 

Whenever she had a few minutes alone, she was in the basement making a banner to string up outside between the posts on the front porch:

“Welcome Home, Joe!  Welcome Home Daddy!  We Love You!”

One afternoon during my naptime, the phone rang and Mama ran up the basement steps to talk to Grandma. She forgot to shut the basement door and when I woke up, I went to the basement.  Mama told me when she went back down to work on the banner, she found me painting one basement wall with the black paint.

Thinking what the reaction of the owner of our rental would be, Mama cautioned, “Cathy, STOP!  Painting walls is naughty.  This isn't our house, honey.  What will we say to the people who own this house?”

“Don't be mad, Mommy.  See, here is a rainbow.  Here is a bow for hair. Over here is Daddy's big boat.”

Mama said she sat me on a chair. “Catherine Jo, painting the wall was naughty!  You sit there and think about what you did. I will be back in five minutes.”

When the time was up, Mama went back down to the basement. I was still sitting quietly in the chair where she left me. She asked if I thought about what I had done.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Tell me, young lady, what did you decide?”  She expected to hear it was wrong to paint the basement wall, followed by an apology.

“Mama, I thinked I wish the color was blue.”

Mama said she had to stifle a laugh. She ran back upstairs to the kitchen to let it out.

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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