Things that are from the devil:
How I know this:
Inordinate number of hours cleaning the girls room and all the spaces they create nests in in the house – i.e. the living room and all of the downstairs. I found myself muttering on hands and knees whilst scraping slime/glue/candy from their floors, cursing under my breath as I painted over Sharpie, markers, pencil marks and crayons – ALL of which bled through the “Stain Covering!” paint, Lordhavemercy, and weeping over my lot in life when I found yet another bag filled with an assortment of treasures and trash.
I have been arguing with myself for days now alternately rejoicing in the creativity of my children, (“She used glitter glue on the bed posts to mark their “house” numbers for their mail system!”) and vowing never to let anyone ever have anything ever again (“Nothing. NOTHING, do you hear me?! They will build castles in their minds and learn the joy of cleaning because a rag is all they will own! Plus we are becoming nudists, end of story.”) You might say it’s been a trying time.
In the end, I’ll probably come around. I’ll get over all the scraps and bits and forget the damage wrought by writing utensils.
But I’ll hold to my position on bags. Those things are E-vil.