It should have been so easy.
Truly.
And yet somehow I could not turn the water in the toilet green.
Seriously? How hard could that be???
I know. You are seriously beginning to wonder why. Why you’re reading this blog. Why this story is worth 1.2 minutes of your time. Why I even write this stuff down.
Well, I write it down because I know that somewhere out there, there is someone wondering just how badly they can screw up a simple little thing…. and I want them to know that they are not alone. That chances are, I could screw it up worse, and that I probably have. And, as you will see much later in this post, I also document my screw-ups with photographs. Oh, yes. Bumblers of the world, rejoice. You have found your wayward leader. C’est Moi. 
Okay, here’s the backstory.
I spotted this cute leprechaun trick on the interwebs and convinced Ariel that it would be fun to prank her dad with it.
Here’s the one that grabbed me:
Adorable, right?
So super-easy, I just knew we could do this. I mean, how hard could it be to make tiny footprints and color the toilet water green, right?
Oh, I am so guilty of over-estimating my abilities. So guilty.
Ariel made the cutest footprints. She upheld her end of the deal. We did practice a few times and I think the placement should have been a little lower (my fault), but overall, I was pleased with the results.
Then it was time to dye the water. I didn’t want to use food coloring because I didn’t know if that would be permanent or not. And I knew that King Triton would NOT be happy if the toilet bowl was forever green.
I don’t have any of that fancy toilet cleaner/bowl water color/can’t even think of what to call that stuff. Yea, that. I don’t have any of it, so that wasn’t an option.
I actually went back to Pinterest to find my original pin and then went to the source of that pin, A Differentiated Kindergarten, to find out how they had done the water. Except, they hadn’t given their secret. Ugh.
Back to the drawing board.
Hey! What about poster paint, I say to Ariel. Surely that water-based paint you have wouldn’t stain the toilet, right?
(and about now is when you should be thinking, oh, no, it stained the toilet.)
(But you’re going to be wrong.
It didn’t stain the toilet. Thank goodness.
But it did not turn out the way it was supposed to.)
I didn’t want to put my finger in the paint–or in the toilet! So I dipped a cotton swab in the paint and then tried to shake the cotton swab hard enough to flick the paint off into the toilet. (you’re wishing I had taken video of all of this, aren’t you?!?!)
It didn’t shake off.
And the paint didn’t even come off in the water when I swished ever-so-gently the cotton swab in the water. Oh, yes, I did swish. And then I swished harder. The paint clung to the cotton swab.
ARRRGGHHH.
Why is this so hard???
By this time, Ariel and I are convulsing on the bathroom floor, laughing like deranged lunatics instead of lucky leprechauns. (For this in-common sense of humor as well as the shared ability to laugh at ourselves and our silliness, I am eternally grateful. We have our fair share of adventures and are able to laugh through most of them. Together.)
And I’m still swishing a green-tipped cotton swab in the toilet. And now I’m jabbing it against the bottom of the bowl, attempting to and eventually succeeding in knocking the paint off the cotton swab. (And I’m really, really glad I’m not taking video of this.)
The paint clumps hang in the water, not quite floating but not sinking either. It’s a strangely familiar look.
And then I, in desperation inspiration, exclaim, “Oh, this is even better than having a leprechaun pee in our toilet! Don’t you see–we can say that a leprechaun pooped in our toilet?!”
And by this time, we have tears streaming down our faces. Roll after roll of laughter peals from the bathroom as we giggle ourselves silly.
We clean up our paints and admire our handiwork. It’s not what we planned on, but somehow, it’s okay. We’ve created a new piece of art and now we must wait until Dad comes home.
The afternoon drags by. We take turns peeking at the potty. Yes, it’s still there. How cute it is. How clever we are.
And then we notice a change.
The paint isn’t hanging in the water any more. It has settled into the bottom of the bowl.
It created a visual illusion that, well, is beyond words.
All that, from one little leprechaun!
Tell me, how was St. Patrick’s Day at your house? Any evidence of leprechauns?
(And, how would you have made the water green? What could I have done differently?)
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