Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

Neener has a promising future as either an advertising executive, a sign maker, or a perennially unemployed drifter who makes money for smokes by taping Lost Cat and Yard Sale signs to poles. Every room in our home has been plastered with Neener’s handmade signs. The hallway is festooned with ‘ads’ for her shoe store, Fiona’s Shoes. The bedroom she shares with Roo is riddled with stern labels indicating who owns what: My bed. Don’t touch. My shelf. Don’t touch. My wall. Don’t touch. Apparently she who makes the most signs rules the bedroom. And the living room is a mess of conflicting information, saying on one wall ‘Welcome to Costa Rica’ and on the other, the cryptic and confusing ‘Closed due to enimies[sic]‘ and ‘Open due to my friends.’ There is even a sign in the bathroom. It went up at Christmas time when my bachelor-esque brother was visiting, reminding him to ‘Please put the toilet seat down.’ It was so effective that we considered sending it home with him to put on the back of his own toilet, potentially saving his girlfriend from a few late-night dips in the flush. But, like all Neener’s other signs, I just could not bear to take it down. Our home looks a little ridiculous, with all these pieces of kid-scrawled paper taped on the walls, but I don’t care. Everywhere I look, I am reminded of my funny kid, and that makes me smile much more than any neat and tastefully decorated room ever could. I know this is just a phase. I know someday the signs will come down, and I know I’ll miss them. I know this too shall pass. So I’m going to take pictures. I’ve already begun doing just that, by taking this one that she drew on her Magna-doodle while playing a game called Baby Land, in which she created a dream theme park for Baby Squiggles and a truckload of dolls:

 

Raising a child for 5 years: $20 000

Buying a Magna-doodle: $20

Having a 5 year old create signs that make you laugh til you pee your pants: priceless.