Boyish Pranks

My youngest has a thing about walls. I'm wondering if he won't grow up to be an ace graffiti-ist although I hope to god not, natch... We are already bound to lose our deposit on this house when we eventually leave because of the artistic flourishes he has added to the crepy of his bedroom.

Yesterday he trounced that easily, apparently. I had popped down the road to see NG and it transpires that my youngest was idling about ripe for devilish interference. He took a little bottle of White-Out and drew a beautiful picture of a bonhomme on the exterieur crepy of the most painful couple's house in the cul de sac.

Luckily my neighbour who has two boys of a similar age to my youngest saw the work of art and, being a teacher, threw herself into crisis management. She and her husband scrubbed the picture off as best they could (without taking a photo for posterity first, unfortunately), and then stood back to examine their handiwork.

There was a marked lack of crepy colour due to the scrubbing - ah. Another neighbour sallied forth with a pot of the stuff, almost the same colour, and they patched up the spot as best they could.

Did my boys tell me any of this when I got home? No, actually. They kept totally schtum on the matter. It was my neighbour who told me today, and said that there is a snippy note taped onto the letter boxes by the painful pair about the 'damage'. I haven't ventured up to look yet...

Having learned of these appalling goings on, I asked my youngest to explain. He told me he'd been bored... He got a bollocking and is now deprived of sweets for the rest of the week, and if he so much as touches another wall, his father will hear about it, and that, my friends, is a Serious Threat!

As my neighbour so kindly put it, it could have been any one of the kids really, and it's just a huge pity that my youngest chose that particular house to deface.

Boys will be boys...?