One of the great joys of parenting a young child is that your house will always be filled with "art". Refrigerator doors full of art. Playrooms stuffed with art. Desks completely hidden under an avalanche of art. Parents can take great comfort in knowing that our little Rembrandts and Cassatts are churning out new masterpieces faster than we can hang them. We are, of course, complicit in creating this onslaught. We scour craft stores for projects to stoke creativity and stave off boredom. We stock up on supplies so our kids have something fun "to do" once outdoor playtime is complete. We find websites like "101 Uses for Pine Cones" and "Cheerios: Not Just For Breakfast Anymore". Thanks to parents like me, even though like only one guy in America still smokes a pipe, the pipe cleaner industry is booming. We send our kids off to preschools and Sunday schools, storytimes and camps, all of which apparently follow the same model: Learn, CRAFT, Snack. Learn, CRAFT, Snack. What we are left with are houses that look like the aftermath of an explosion at the construction paper factory, piled high with tissue paper flowers and Fruit Loop rainbows.
Of all the "supplies" that have invaded our home for these projects, I've come to loathe one more than the rest. I can abide the crayons and finger paints. I don't mind the uncooked rice breaking loose of the glue. (Memo to new parents: the uncooked rice/macaroni/cereal never sticks to the glue.) I don't mind tripping over rubber stamps and ink pads. What I can't stand is the glitter. Ubiquitous, pervasive glitter. A colorful spectrum of tiny garbage swirling about. It shouldn't be in your home. See it even has "litter" right there in its name. Glitter for craft projects. Glitter that sheds from every dollar store tiara your little princess owns. It is as if your worst enemy broke himself into a bajillion shiny pieces and scattered himself throughout your life. I say throughout your life because glitter gets everywhere. It is bad enough that leaving the playroom you look like you dropped a week's pay in the Champagne Room with a "dancer" named Cinnamon, but the glitter gets dragged throughout the house. I found some on clean kitchen plates the other day. I see some on the couch cushions as I type right now. If I wanted a glittery, fancified couch pillow I would purchase a Bedazzler from television. I've shown up to work unaware that I have glitter stuck in eyebrow and on my tie. I don't want to sparkle like some sullen teenage vampire. I don't want someone to think I stole Liberace's coat.
So what are you to do to escape this insidious decoration? I don't know, but here is what you don't do-try to vacuum it up. Sure, some of it gets sucked up, but the rest of it gets blown around, suddenly airborne like some zombie flu that even Brad Pitt and Will Smith working together can't stop. All you can do is raise the Glitter Index to red and hope for the best. Like sand in your swim trunks, no matter what you do, it is going to be with you all day. What's next, are the evil sorcerers that produce this ghastly stuff going to mix it right in the paste so it literally sticks with you? Wait, what's that you say? Glitter Glue? Aaaaaaaah....
