At first, I was SO angry that I couldn't see straight. And I surely wasn't going to document THAT.
Then, I got over it. After all, it was MY fault more than Andrew's. I am 25. I should know better. He is 14 months old. He hasn't learned the disasterous effects coloring on walls has (well, he hadn't until today. But he learned, let me tell you!)
Then I thought-well, I SHOULDN'T take a picture because that would be confusing. Naughtiness rewarded with PICTURES? That would be positive reinforcement, right?
Then I started scrubbing his feet. And he began giggling. Softer, softer, then it grew to monumental proportions. He fell over. Tears were streaming down his eyes. He could hardly breathe. And I was JUST scrubbing.
Now THAT, is positive reinforcement!
(By the way: Notice that in black and white, you can hardly even NOTICE the mess? Well...the marker didn't wash off. So, having that feature in my brain would work nicely for the next day or so...)