Marvelously Glad I Don't Believe in Karma

As I type this, the smell of nail polish and nail polish remover hangs in the air, despite the open windows and ceiling fans. Audrey "bought" a little bottle of nail polish last night at the AWANA carnival with the tickets she won from the various games.

I was playing "Diner Dash" (http://www.playfirst.com/game/dinerdash/play) when I smelled something suspicious. I went to check on Audrey, who was supposed to be napping, and was met with a sight that would strike fear into any perfectionist neatnik's heart: a toddler with an open bottle of nail polish on her bed. Fortunately, I am NOT a perfectionist neatnik: I only had mild irritation in my heart. And not with Audrey; with myself for not taking it away from her earlier. She had it smeared all over her hands and feet. She ruined a pair of white pants and a pair of socks. I tossed her sheets into the wash just to knock some of the nasty smell off.

I took her in the kitchen and got my bottle of nail polish remover out. We scrubbed and scrubbed, then went into the bathroom and scrubbed some more. She's still dark pink around the edges, but I did the best I could.

I sure am glad I believe in a God who doesn't pay back to me what I deserve. Otherwise I'd be wondering what I've done lately to make Him so mad at me that I deserve the events of the last few days with the kids.

So now I'm going out to the garage to do a little Homemade Gourmet work. I'm getting some good responses from my letter I sent out saying, "Help! I'm moving to England and have mixes in my garage! Buy them cheap!"

--April