I've always been of the opinion that Play-Doh, Silly Putty, and all things gooey should be "outside" toys. They just always seem to crumble into little bits all over the floor for someone's feet to drag throughout the entire damn house. And this is EXACTLY why I should have known better than to allow my children to bring Crazy Aaron's stupid "Thinking Putty" into a room full of upholstered furniture.
Back in the spring, this stuff was seriously all the rage at our middle school. It came in all different styles -- magnetic, hypercolor, glow in the dark, and God knows what other kinds of accidents waiting to happen. My daughter absolutely HAD to collect as many tins of the putty as her cash stockpile would possibly allow her. And she SWORE to me that she would never ever play with it while sitting on any of the furniture. And I believed her. (Yes, I realize now how insanely MORONIC that was of me.)
So a few weeks ago, I honestly thought the fad was over because I hadn't seen the likes of Crazy Aaron or any of his stupid putty in months. That is, until I tried to fluff the sofa cushions in the family room. And that's when I found this:
You may or may not notice the lovely blue stain of MOTHER FREAKING GUNK that now adorns our family room sofa. Cute, huh? And that is what it looks like after HOURS of trying to scrape it off the fabric. Needless to say, Crazy Aaron and all of his blood-sucking putty are now residing in the trash. He is not welcome here. Ever. Ever. Again.