Remember Luca Man? Luca Man was my youngest son’s drawing of
a matter of fact face with two eyes and a straight line of a mouth. He repeated
this drawing over and over until I made too big a deal out of it and he refused
to draw it ever again.
That hasn’t stopped Luca’s artistic streak, though. Since
Diana and I banished all screens during the week, our sons have been forced to
the art table. I believe not being allowed to watch The Disney Channel is what
fueled Van Gogh.
Our walls are filled with Luca masterpieces. Robots,
dinosaurs and an autumnal series of ghosts, spider webs and vampires.
And like all great artists, from time to time Luca will
declare, “I’m pretty great at art.”
Diana informed him he could actually pursue art as a career.
But this disturbed him. He anxiously asked me how he would have time to have a
job as an artist, a fireman and live with mommy. I told him there would be
plenty of time between fires and getting cats out of the tree to paint
portraits of his mother.
Elijah also dabbles in art. But his medium is apologies.
When he beats his brother or trashes his room or leaves a
half eaten pudding cup in our sheets, he will create a drawing depicting his
transgression with the words “I’m sorry” scrawled across the top.
I love this because it’s a heck of a lot more sincere than
mumbling a mea culpa while suppressing a smile.
Take last night, for instance. In the course of a raucous
game of Hide and Seek Eli and Luca destroyed a large potted plant in our
office. Schuyler the sitter spent the time she would normally dedicate to
dinner cleaning up the massive pile of dirt. So Diana had to feed the boys
after a trying day in the wine mines.
Eli drew a big image of Diana frowning with a question mark
over her head. Our unused oven was depicted in the corner and he drew little
kids yelling and smiling. The caption read, “Sorry mom. We did not have
dinner.”
His other apology from last night is described with
permission from Diana. You’ll see why in a minute.
This one shows me and Luca and Eli sitting at the dining
room table. We all have very sad faces.
On the other half of the page, he drew our bathroom, complete with a
urine-filled toilet. He drew Diana with a frown on her face and a liberal and
graphic depiction of her, um, time of the month. Across the top, he wrote,
“Sorry (again).”
I have no idea why he felt like it was his fault. I guess
that’s for him and his therapist to figure out in 20 years.
I begged Diana to let me put the drawing in the blog. She
agreed, but in the cold light of day, I’ve decided to share this cute photo of
the boys at the nature center.
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