A post dedicated to my Dad

I remember a lot of things my dad said when my brothers and sister and I were kids. Right now I'm remembering one particular phrase that he repeated alot: "We're not allowed to have anything nice." This was usually said matter-of-factly, and with some resignation.

The following sequence of photos is an illustration of my dad's expression, played out in my home. Though the rest of our home has fared rather well in the year-and-a-half we've lived here, I already dread the many hours of work that will have to go into repairing Everett's room before we can sell our house when the time comes.

This is where the doorstopper used to be

before Everett stood on it:

This is where Everett's closet door used to be:

This is what can happen when the paint starts to crack at a seam right over a little boy's bed:

This is what can happen when you put a child in time out with a tambourine in his hand:

This is what can happen when you leave three children playing with stuffed animals together while you are bathing your fourth child. (This was after we had replaced the blinds that had already been destroyed.):

I don't know if you can see all the little dirty fingerprints, but they are the evidence of the vent being removed repeatedly by little hands. (To see my post about one particular event, click here.)

And last but not least, I don't know how or when these happened: