Modern Art

I'm so happy that Cael has inherited some artistic ability, and even happier that I have an excuse to color and doodle again.  But as I've recently learned, having a budding artist in the house involves much less art and much, much more interpretation. 

"Do you like my picture, Mom?"

"Yes, you're a very good artist."

"What's your favorite part?"

Quick, find something identifiable.  "Um, I really like how you wrote your name.  Your letters are so clear!" 

"But what part of the picture, Mom?"

"Well, let's see.  Is that a beak?  I like the beak on your... um, your chicken."

"IT'S NOT A CHICKEN!  Can't you tell what it is?"

This is always a lose-lose scenario.  If I give in and ask him what he's drawn, he will be offended that his vision wasn't clearly conveyed.  If I venture a guess (and guess wrong), he is not only offended, but convinced that I am stupid. 

"Well it's some kind of bird, because I see the beak and it looks like there's sky behind the bird.  So, is it a robin?" 

"Uh, no!"

"Okay, is it a hawk?"

"NO!  Come on, Mom.  Jeez."

With nothing else to lose, I took the chance and asked about my son's prized artwork.

"Okay, Cael.  You just tell me what it is.  I'm just not very good at guessing, it seems."

"Duh, Mom.  It's a black-yellow-red-brown tall tree leaf-bird.  And it's eating a brown, fuzzy tall tree-worm."

"Oh, I see.  I'm sorry."

"You really need to work on your guessing, Mommy..."