Even better, Peanut is becoming quite the little artist. Unlike her dancing gene, which she obviously gets from me, this love of art comes from My Director's side. My mother-in-law was a stellar art teacher. My Director loves that artsy stuff too. Me? Admittedly, whenever Peanut asks, "Daddy, come color with me," I cringe. A pit forms in my stomach. I immediately try to think of an excuse to get out of it. It's true. I'd rather unload the dishwasher than color with my child. The best I can usually do is a house, a tree, a sun, and some stick figures.
Realizing that's cruel and contrary to everything I believe as a parent, I then try to convince her that something else would be more fun:
"C'mon, Peanut. Instead we can totally eat ice cream and jump on the bed before mommy gets home. She'll never know."
"No, daddy. I just want to color."
"Fine. Have it your way."
Whether I like it or not, Peanut loves to draw. Her favorite subject is our family. Here is the spot-on picture of My Director she recently drew for Mother's Day:
|The glasses. The earrings. The boots. Perfect.|
Not to be outdone, here's what was hanging in school all week, in honor of Father's Day:
And the pink shirt is kind of my trademark. I also appreciate her matching my tie and my shoes. I do my best to look stylish. She's got a keen eye, that little Peanut.
My favorite family portrait of hers is hanging on the refrigerator:
|I'm wearing a Jets shirt, btw.|
And I love how she calls the dog "Luna Puppy."
Peanut's drawing of me has improved dramatically. Last year's effort is in this post.