Blake moved to the naughty list this week. First offense. Jon and I had wrapped the Christmas eve presents and put them under the tree. Florecita had also visited us and dropped off the cousin presents. Blake and Trey were playing upstairs and I was downstairs with Miley and Ryder. Blake came downstairs crying because he had cut his finger. I got him cleaned up and a bandaid on and then checked to see what he was cutting. He and Trey opened every single present under the tree. He was even wearing a new pair of socks (a purple and green fuzzy pair that I think were for Lola). Trey accidentally snipped his finger with scissors when they were trying to get through the packing tape on Mom and Dad's package. He has informed me he won't open any more packages until Christmas, which isn't really noble considering he opened all available already. And because I'm classy I just took the new socks off his sweaty little feet and put it in the "to wrap" pile.
The second offense. It was close to bedtime and everybody was piled in our bed as we read Christmas books. Blake was trolling around our bathroom not participating. He came out of the bathroom and said, "I'm ready to go to bed now." That is when the first mental alarm went off. The second one went off when I smelled nail polish. I asked Blake if he got into my nail polish. He quickly (too quickly) said no. I took his hand and told him lets go check. My bathroom stank like nail polish, but I couldn't see any spills, until I went into my closet. There in the carpet in wide arching circles was an entire bottle of Carrie Underwood pink polish. Luckily I had carelessly left an oversized sweatshirt that I sleep in on the floor that protected some of the carpet. I tried several internet cleaning tips, but alas they all failed me and we now are proud owners of ruined carpet.Ryder has also been working on getting on the naughty list. He wasn't sharing with his sister and I warned him that he better share or he was going to end up on the naughty list and not get a present. He informed me that he would still get presents on Christmas. I explained that yes, his Dad and I would still get him presents because we love him, but that he wouldn't get his present he asked from Santa. He insisted that he would and we discussed it for several days. He finally told me he knew I was lying because he read a book in school about a boy and on Christmas he still got a bike even though he was naughty. (It's Christmas, David! By David Shannon, it is a super popular book but for obvious reasons I can't recommend it.)