Buy That Girl a Notebook

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Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life -
learn some and think some and draw and
paint and sing and dance and play and
work every day some.

~ Robert Fulghum

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We're going through a phase.  As daughter of the year #2 grows closer to two, she spends more and more time exploring her precociousness.  She loves to sing, and play with Barbies, pull her sister's hair and most of all, draw and color.  Let's see...she has colored on the carpet, on our leather sofa, on daughter of the year #1's coloring contest sheet - just about anywhere she can. 

I had to work today.  When I returned home, dad of the year encouraged me to check out the stairwell to our basement.  That's when I saw it.  Two pencils, laid nearly perfect on the stairs and a wonderful "picture" on our wall.  It was left in pristine condition until I arrived home.  I think the last person who drew on the wall also did so under dad of the year's watch.  I think he was most proud she used daddy's construction pencils for her artwork.  Now where in the world did she get those? 

"What are you doing?" Dad of the year yelled after what he stated had been 30 seconds of silence.  

"I co-wor (color)," she yelled back as daddy found her happily wielding construction pencils in hand. 

This brought back memories of another artist who drew on the wall.  I remember that day so clearly.  I'm not sure why, of all the memories to have, that one comes back easily.  I steadied what I am fairly sure was a purple crayon in my hand, scooted between dad's recliner and the wall, sat cross legged and drew.  On the wall.  I don't remember what I drew but for some reason rainbows come to mind.  I have no idea how old I was, but I did get caught.  My father immediately told my mother that I had nothing to draw on and therefore, they needed to run right out and buy me paper and pencils so I had a "proper" place to draw. 

I have never heard the end of this story from my siblings.  I've heard it all.  How, if they had colored on the wall, they would have gotten in big trouble.  How I was daddy's girl and being the youngest, I got away with everything.  We all have that one story that gets told at least 100 times more often than the others and the drawing on the wall one is mine. 

So, what did I do with the pencil on the wall?  Well, as I type, it's still there.  Mainly because my recent supply of Magic Erasers (a must in any home with young children) has run out.  Mostly because I know the world will go on.  Now, of course, we explained to daughter of the year #2 that coloring on the wall was a BIG no-no. 

Given how she laughs at us when we discipline her, I'm thinking I should shop for those Magic Erasers tomorrow. 

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