The Eye Of the Beholder
Every now and then I love getting out the paints for Noah to use, but it's kind of rare I have to say. Because you can't just get out the paints; no! Then it's the towel to drape over the chair, the paper plate that stands in for a palette, the paintbrushes, the cup of water to rinse the brush, the newspaper to protect the table, the paper to paint on....
Next thing you know, it's a scene right out of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Exhausting, to say the least.
The other evening, at 5:04pm (classic supper-making-time), Noah decided he wanted to paint. I was up to my elbows in raw meatloaf (you've not lived til you've mixed your meatloaf with your bare hands!) at the time, and the thought of the whole production that we call painting just made me sigh. I suggested he draw instead. (Drawing requires just two resources--paper and pencils--instead of 27).
When he was done, he declared that he had drawn a picture of monkeys, and wanted to show me. As usual, I expected to see a jumble of unidentifiable squiggles and scribbles, which is very typical of his drawings, but surprise! For the first time ever, I was able to recognize his drawing for what it was. Now you look, and tell me; can you see the monkeys?
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