Alex and I were watching the end of Smackdown, the Kane versus MVP match when I looked into my open bedroom door. There was black, PERMANENT marker all over my walls… and my freaking Batista poster!

Yep, my daughter Nicole had gotten hold of a marker and decided to make a f*cking mural.

So I popped her to bed, Gramma Blackheart got us a bowl of water, two washcloths and a box of blue Brillo pads. Alex and I sit there scrubbing this shit off, along with the damn paint! The soap from the pads is seeping down our clenched fists and finally, Alex says it:

“It looks like Poppa Smurf came on me!”

*sighs*

We scrub, and scrub and scrub some more.

Where Alex has been working, there’s a distinctive WHITE Nike symbol on my CREAM colored wall.

Do the math.

Now we’re renters, this isn’t a good thing. We rent from our mother (*waves to Momma B*), this is a very BAD thing.

“Alex, we’re making the wall worse.” I sighed finally, tossing my washcloth and Brillo pad into the bucket of water.

“Yeah, but at least the wall isn’t scribbled on anymore.” He pointed out.

No… now it’s covered in a white and cream Dalmatian pattern. Thank you Nicole! Lucky for me, I’m a firm believer in covering every inch of wall space. Sadly, the Batista poster is beyond repair.