Miriam enjoys drawing a lot and has impeccable fine motor skills for someone her age. I'm not sure if she draws well because she draws a lot or if she draws a lot because she draws well. However it works she draws all the time and so it was that she was in the car, drawing pictures for Grandpa.
First she drew a picture of a bumble bee and a butterfly dancing through the sky together. The bumble bee was striped yellow and black, it had six legs, two wings, and two antennae. The butterfly was blue and yellow. There was a sunshine in the sky and all in all it was a fairly accurate picture. She wrote "MiRiAM?" in big letters (with the question mark at the end because she thinks question marks are fancy) and handed it up to Grandpa.
Next she drew a picture of a beautiful princess with big puffy sleeves and ribbons all over her dress, blowing in the wind. She wrote "MOMY" on the picture and handed it to me.
"Oh, thank you," I said.
"That's not for you," she explained, rolling her eyes. "It's for Grandpa. Pass it up."
"But it says mommy on it."
"It's a picture of you for Grandpa."
Well, of course it is. What else would it be?
Miriam announced that her next picture would be a self-portrait. I assumed, when she began digging through the container of crayons, that she was hunting for a pink crayon (since that's been her favourite colour since birth, basically) but she surprised me when she started grumbling about yellow.
"Yellow, yellow, yellow. Where is that yellow? I need yellow!"
"Oh, do you like yellow now?" I asked.
"Uh, no. That's just the colour of my hair. Come on!" she said, as if it were blatantly obvious.
Her 'come on' was perfectly reminiscent of Gob from Arrested Development, if you've ever watched that show. We have. And apparently we've also quoted it a little too much around the children (who are sometimes actually respectful, believe it or not).
First she drew a picture of a bumble bee and a butterfly dancing through the sky together. The bumble bee was striped yellow and black, it had six legs, two wings, and two antennae. The butterfly was blue and yellow. There was a sunshine in the sky and all in all it was a fairly accurate picture. She wrote "MiRiAM?" in big letters (with the question mark at the end because she thinks question marks are fancy) and handed it up to Grandpa.
Next she drew a picture of a beautiful princess with big puffy sleeves and ribbons all over her dress, blowing in the wind. She wrote "MOMY" on the picture and handed it to me.
"Oh, thank you," I said.
"That's not for you," she explained, rolling her eyes. "It's for Grandpa. Pass it up."
"But it says mommy on it."
"It's a picture of you for Grandpa."
Well, of course it is. What else would it be?
Miriam announced that her next picture would be a self-portrait. I assumed, when she began digging through the container of crayons, that she was hunting for a pink crayon (since that's been her favourite colour since birth, basically) but she surprised me when she started grumbling about yellow.
"Yellow, yellow, yellow. Where is that yellow? I need yellow!"
"Oh, do you like yellow now?" I asked.
"Uh, no. That's just the colour of my hair. Come on!" she said, as if it were blatantly obvious.
Her 'come on' was perfectly reminiscent of Gob from Arrested Development, if you've ever watched that show. We have. And apparently we've also quoted it a little too much around the children (who are sometimes actually respectful, believe it or not).
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