I threw the twins into the shower. They did not like it, but I wasn't about to have them playing around in the bathtub, splashing blue (I guess it would be purple since blue and red make... ta-da! purple) water everywhere.
After I got everyone showered, dressed in their PJ's, and combed their hair, I went downstairs to survey the damage. It was worse than I expected. There was water and paint from the fridge, all the way around the island, under the table, and over to the carpet's edge in the family room. Globs of paint graced the table, counters, and doors. UGH! I'm was suppose to be leaving right then! How come these things never happen when I'm away? I think paint is officially banned from our house. I don't want to see them covered in paint again until they're in college. By then the only color I better see is blue. I think Grandpa Henry would have a heart attack if one of his own flesh and blood went over to the dark (dark red that is) side!