The Sidewalk Chalk Vandal

I like to spoil my nieces and nephews by doing something one on one with them to celebrate their birthday. I was belated in my birthday outing with my youngest niece. It was a nice afternoon. She got to pick out ANYTHING she wanted from Wal-Mart. Well, ok, not anything. I didn’t want my sister to kill me. And then we went to Mc Donalds to eat lunch and play on the playland. Hannah and my niece, who I'll refer to as Miss E, love each other to pieces. After lunch Miss E came over to our house and she and Hannah played happily all afternoon. Joshua and Ruth came home from school, and it was, sadly, time to take Miss E home.

After we got home from dropping Miss E off at her house the kids ran outside to play. Looking at the back patio and Joshua ran back inside and yelled, “MAMA! SOMEONE HAS BEEN WRITING ON OUR PATIO!!” in his loudest indignant voice.

“Yes,” I said, “I let Miss E and Hannah play with sidewalk chalk.”

“NOOO!!!!!!!” he argued “SOMEONE WROTE LETTERS! LETTERS!”

I said “Well, do they spell anything?”

“No, BUT SOMEONE WROTE LETTERS!” Joshua repeated.

“Miss E wrote those, I’m sure. If they don’t spell anything, I’m sure it was her.” I tried to reassure him.

“YEAH, BUT BUT BUT…There’s Peeee’s and Rrrr’s and Beeeee’s” he continued to verbally spar with me, drawing out the sound of each letter.

“Yes,” I repeated. “I’m sure Miss E wrote those. Do you think someone would sneak into our yard and just randomly write B’s and P’s and R’s?” I tried to reason with The Boy.

“No. You’re not listening.” He complained.

I’m not listening? I thought.

Joshua, prosecutor for the district attorney, continued to present his evidence, growing more insistent and indignant, “They look too good, like a big person wrote them. I’m sure Miss E can’t write that nicely.”

“Ok, let’s look at this logically. It’s a string of random letters in chalk. If someone was going to jump our fence and write something with our side-walk chalk,” I began to repeat myself speaking very slowly, “Do…you…think…they…would…write…B’s… and P’s… and… R’s??? What… do… you… think… they… would… write?” I was being a bit of a smart-alec myself, but I couldn’t help it. He was driving me crazy.



“Bad words? Silly things? Gross stuff?” Josh  was finally starting to connect some dots. “But how can Miss E have such nice handwriting?”

“I don’t know. She just does.”

“Hannah can’t write like that.”

“Yes, well, Hannah is a little behind. You could write like that at their age. Ruthie could write like that.”

“OOOOOoooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

(Ding ding ding! By jove, I think he’s got it!)

Whew.

I think if Mr. Detective had just looked a little more closely, he would have noticed the artist’s signature: