BraveArt

While Reagan was napping yesterday, Tienan felt the call of the muse. He wanted to do "Art." He was walking around saying, "Dad, I want to do my art. My art. I must do my art." So I set him up at the easel, his grandfather made for him and let the creativity flow unrestricted....

When Tiernan the artist, feels the call of the muse he prefers to work in mulitiple mediums, so there was makers, and crayons, and roll-on paints, splashed and scrawled across the paper. The spirit had really grabbed him, he was in the art zone.

In an effort to keep his clothes the color they were when he put them on, I thought it might be a good idea if he took his shirt off. He thought that he should take his shorts but, but I talked him out of it. He is now shirtless and wearning his art schmock and shorts. He looks like a miniature blacksmith. I left him in the basement to pursue his art. While he created, I folded laundry.

Fifteen minutes later, he his screaming for me to open the basement door. I do. He strides out of the basement, looking like an extra in Braveheart, who read the directions wrong. His face, his chest, his stomach, his neck are all red or brown or yellow. His knees are red. His hands are read. His socks are red. The back of his legs are red.

"What were you doing?" I ask.

"My art." There are these roll-on paints that he was rolling on himself and then finger-painting or chest-painting forearm-painting.

"OK, buddy. You look good. Let's go upstairs and jump in the tub to get cleaned up." I throw him in the tub and the red washes right off. He's getting dressed and as I am putting his old "BraveHeart" clothes in the hamper I notice that the bottom of his socks are also red. And I ask, "Is the floor in the basement red, too?"

He says, "Yeah."

"Is there anything else painted down stairs?"

"The Thomas table is a little red. But it was an accident," he says.

"OK, you finish getting dressed. I am going downstairs to check out what you did to the basement."

"NOOOOO!!!! No, no. Daddy don't go down there. No. I was an accident."

So I go down there and the Thomas table half-covered in red paint. There is a big puddle of red paint on the floor. Luckily, I was just able to clean it up with just a damp rag.

The things a boy will do for his "Art."