Yesterday evening when I got home from the Mother’s Day staycation I went on with my mom and sister I was jumping on the trampoline in back when I noticed something florescent green attached to the side of our house about 10 feet up. It was on the stucco that runs along the bottom of the balcony off the master bedroom. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was one of those sticky hands you get out of a vending machine for a quarter that only have three practical applications:
1. Collecting cat fur and bacteria.
2. Slapping your brother in the face and saying, “It’s not my fault, I can’t control it!” when he cries.
3. Sneaking up behind your older brother when he’s doing his homework and using it to grab his papers off his desk so he gets really pissed off and locks you out of his room.
I went inside to find Jonas to resolve the issue.
Me: Hey Jo…
Me: Is that your sticky hand on the house?
Me: Right under the balcony.
Jonas (runs outside and back in excitedly): Yep, that’s mine! I thought it had landed on the neighbor’s roof.
Me: Well, I need you to get it off the house.
Jonas (in a full sprint upstairs): OK!!
10 minutes later as he retreats down the stairs…
Jonas: I can’t reach it. I need to construct something to get it down.
Me: Construct away, I have faith in you. I just want it off my house.
3 minutes later…
Jonas (running down the stairs and out the back door to retrieve his prize): I got it!
Jason: Alright, hand it over.
Jonas (furiously): No! I just want to play with it for 10 minutes!
Me: It’s fine, he can play with it for a few minutes before he needs to get ready for bed, can’t he?
Jason: Do you see those greasy marks on the ceiling over there?
Me: Huh, yeah. I didn’t notice them.
Jason: They’re from the sticky hands Jo and Gray got out of the machines at Barro’s on Friday. This is why I took the rest of them away.
Me: Oh… right. I thought you were just being cranky.
Jonas: We didn’t know that was going to happen! We just thought they’d stick and fall down.
Me: I get it. But now it looks like an octopus barfed on our ceiling, so you can’t play with them any more.
Jonas (angrily stomping up the stairs): It’s not fair!
20 minutes later (I’m watching TV and don’t look up when Jonas comes down in his jammies).
Jonas: Mom, we could paint the ceiling, couldn’t we? Then it wouldn’t look bad.
Me: Yes, dear. We’ll probably do that eventually. In 20 years when we go to sell it.
Jonas (comes over to my chair and nudges me with something in his hand): Here. I have white.
Jonas: It has some green in it, but I think if we use a really really small brush we can get the paint around the edges. Or Dad has a sponge. We could use that to get the green off and then paint the ceiling. See? It’s fine.
Me: … Yes.
Jonas: So I can have the sticky hand back?