We shall have grips like Iron!

Yesterday, The Tyrant managed to get silly putty all over the couch and her shorts. Bright, neon yellow silly putty... The Mother Hen, Bear and I started trying to clean it up. (Thank the intar-web for GoodHouseKeeping!) As we are sitting there scrapping silly putty of shorts and the couch, I looked over at the The Tyrant and asked, "How did this happen?" And she looks at me with tears in her eyes and says "I don't know!" (This link goes to a classic parenting skit, it is a must see!)

I shook my head and continued scrapping. After about 20 minutes of scrapping, The Mother Hen and I both have cramps in our hands but it is finally coming almost all the way off. The Mother Hen said, "I need a break, my hand hurts!" I looked at her, as seriously as I could, "No you can't, you must keep working! We shall have grips like IRON!" We both starting laughing and continued to scrape.

Next, we started dabbing cotton balls of alcohol on the yellow remnants. The Tyrant, who was still showing little remorse for what happened, started playing a video game. I almost lost my temper completely. Instead, I very firmly said "You are going to have to stop playing that game." Bear said, "If you are truly remorseful as you told me you were, you would be trying to help us instead of playing that game." The Tyrant drops her controller and very quietly asks, "Can I help?" Bear, who is working on her shorts, looks up and says "Yes, you can tell us how this happened." The Tyrant says again, "I don't know!" Thoroughly frustrated, Bear leaves the room to pre-treat her shorts so that they can be washed.

After about a half hour of dabbing, the couch is almost clean. The Tyrant has gone back to her video game and The Mother Hen is mad because she has been working and her younger sister is just sitting there. So, in the snarkiest tone possible she looks at The Tyrant and says, "That's okay, when we have grips like iron I am going to use my grip to strangle you!"