The First Step is Admitting That I Have a Problem.

If you are a Mom like me that has found quite a bit of lethargic pleasure in renewing your love of coloring thanks to having a coloring-aged-kid (even if you are also, like me, a serial crayon breaker), THEN YOU MUST GO TO TARGET RIGHT NOW. You have no idea the level of satisfaction – nay, ecstasy – that awaits you.

In their school supplies section, Target has these awesome pocket folders in various designs at the very-affordable-for-the-hours-of-obsession-entertainment-they-will-bring-you-price of 2 for $1.50:

Not only are the designs totally coloring ready,

but the texture of that hard, slick, thick cardstock colored on with a pack of Crayola skinny markers is simply and indescribably glorious.

You just might spend two days, coloring feverishly, until your folder looks like this:

And you put down your obsession for a time (to do things like feed your child, do the laundry, and bathe), even though you can hear back side of the folder, calling your name and beckoning you to come enjoy your coloring pleasure…

And even the inside flaps.

But alas, you need to let your bruised marker-holding-finger rest.

The best part of this addiction is (unlike my last addiction of the Angry Birds iPhone game which HAS to be the most addictive app substance on the planet), your kid will THINK you’re doing all of this coloring to spend time with them, and will be glad to color with you:

And your husband may even join in the fun:

But, of course, your coloring needs may last much longer than said child or husband’s, so husband will go back to playing Angry Birds (because it takes husbands longer to beat the game than it does us wives), and your child will entertain herself with other things, like trashing the entire house…

Or working on subliminal messages…

(No, that doesn’t say “Bad Mommy”. . . . it says “Daddy Mommy” – it’s just that two of the D’s are stacked.)

(I hope.)

So. Go. Now. Fulfill your destiny as a colorer. And if you don’t already have them, pick up a pack of skinny Crayola Markers while you’re there. You’ll thank me later…with your bruised fingers.