A few days ago, I was standing at the sink, getting things ready for dinner, and I hear Z saying, "[It's] all over the place." She repeats her phrase a few times more before I'm able to tear my eyes away from whatever I'm doing to see what she's referring to.
She's standing there with a jar of peanut butter in her hand, said peanut butter all over her hands and face, looking rather concerned that it's "all over the place". I literally think to myself, "No time for camera, got to wash this off and find out where else 'all over the place' means."
After Z's all cleaned up, I hunt through the house, hoping it's not on any upholstery or carpeting, and eventually spot it, smeared all over the walls on the stairs. (Still no time for pictures: have to make sure the baby doesn't discover this tasty-greasy artwork.) Thank goodness for semi-gloss paint.
Not as bad as the time my friend's oldest smeared diaper cream all over herself and her baby sister, or the time another friend's son drew all over the walls with permanent marker, but it's enough for me.
