The kids and I recently made sidewalk chalk.
I know. Such ambition chalks shocks even me.
You see, I hate crafts. Always have. And despite my best efforts to be THAT mom, I always will.
I grew up with a domestic goddess mother so renowned that she opened the most acclaimed English tea rooms and gift shops in the city. Such domesticity must have skipped a generation because my daughter Hadley shares my mom’s talent. In an effort to support her ambitions, I recently sent her to art camp.
You know. So I wouldn’t have to do it with her.
Hadley had her birthday late-May and when people asked me what to buy, I cheerfully replied, “Get her anything to do with crafts.” This plan completely flopped because I forgot to include the important provision that “No parental involvement should be required.”
Every single one of her projects requires major supervision.
I’m ashamed to admit her beloved presents have sat all summer until one morning, I waxed ambitious. “Let’s make sidewalk chalk!” I proclaimed, pointing to her kit. “Really?” Hadley suspiciously queried, looking like the world must be coming to an end for me to be volunteering my services.
How tough could it be? The kit contained colorful powders and all we had to do was add water, shake the bottle and pour it into some cute butterfly-shaped molds.
Evidently, I can’t even handle just-add-water directions.
Part of the problem is Hadley, being an artist, wanted to have a kaleidoscope of colors within each mold. This would have been fine except the solution was fast-drying and if not poured immediately, it would become lumpy.
We found that out the hard way with Yellow.
That was the beginning of the end.
I suggested she add some more water to the bottle, put the lid on it and shake it up again. This may have been a seamless solution if she had adequately screwed the lid on.
Yellow paint shot all over the table, Hadley’s face and the ground.
I rushed her inside to cleanup but by the time she had returned, the other bottles had dried up and we were in the same predicament as before. A frenzy followed as we tried to revive the other colors.
In the end, we looked like a rainbow threw up on us but miraculously, THE END RESULT WAS ACTUAL SIDEWALK CHALK.
You know. The same stuff we could have bought at the Dollar Store.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 