Thursday, August 20, 2009
We have primarily given up naptime these days as the twins sleep much better at night without it. Sometimes, however, it is not only necessary, but imperative. There are times when tempers flare and tantrums rage out of control, and we deem it naptime, if only to preserve our own sanity. In truth, our kids could pull an all nighter worthy of a college sophomore, but the fits of screaming and crying and wailing would be enough to put Mother Theresa's patience to the test.
And so it was the other day that we put the twins down for a nap. There were the usual signs... finger sucking, eye rubbing, and yawning galore accompanied by short fuses and ill tempers. So the wife and I laid the kids down to slumber, and we took advantage of this opportunity to catch some zzz's ourselves.
Perhaps we were more tired than the kids... a thought that never occurred to me personally. But upon our awakening, the house was silent for a few blissful moments. I took advantage of this window to check my e-mail, and the wife retired to the kitchen to set about preparing for dinner.
Jack awoke shortly thereafter and wandered into the kitchen in search of apple juice. The silence was broken by his Mother's bewildering tone... "What is that all over you? Go show Daddy."
I stepped into the kitchen to find my beloved son's epidermis riddled with strange and artistic lines, like jailhouse tattoos. Some parts were oddly yellow, but mostly just black lines racing off to dizzying ends. "Is that magic marker, or some kind of paint?" I asked naively. "We don't have markers in this house," the wife replied with a sour pucker, as if I had suggested the Pope were a Jew.
So I ventured into the twins' bedroom to find my daughter asleep in a similar predicament... although it was impossible to tell where the lines on her body stopped and the lines on her mattress began. It was as though she had exhausted herself with this artistic outburst. Her muse had sung to her so sweetly that she could not contain herself. In a fit of passion, she had decorated herself, her brother, the walls, the crib, the mattress, the dresser, the nightstand, the walls, the door, the trim, the carpet, the upholstered rocking chair, and even the curtains and the carpet. I uttered only four words: "Honey... get the camera."
So I proudly present to you Ella's first art exhibition. We will soon set up an auction with a Paypal option for those of you who appreciate the finer things in life. FYI, chunks of drywall will start considerably lower than the rocking chair, which as you can see is her masterpiece.