I blame the colors. The miniature size. The kitschy name. The instant flood of memories of myself drawing in my sketch book as a child.
I bought the Yoys markers. And a truckload of them, to boot.
In my incapacitated state, I purchased 16 markers. Or as I have now renamed them, destroyers of all things nice in my house.
The boys did color with the markers some. Big E even used them to design his appropriately titled, I'M SORRY, MOMMY piece.
Mostly they dump the Pip Squeaks on the floor, take all the caps off, and then leave them to dry out.
If I were smart, I'd let those suckers dry out. But I'm too Type A. I end up scouring the playroom hunting down matching caps and markers. I am slowly going insane.
I'm tabbing this entry for when I have the inkling to purchase a set of drums for Big E or a supersoaker for Little E.
Where is the red cap? I say, where in the world did that red cap go?