Visual Arts

I've always thought of myself as a fairly artistic person, and anyone who knows me will vouch for the fact that my perfectionism often leads me to spend 20 - 30 minutes working on a picture of a train car on a restaurant placemat.  But over the last couple of years, I've gotten the sense that my boys didn't inherit that particular trait, opting instead to perfect their baseball swing like their Daddy, or their preference for bathroom humor.

They didn't get that from me either.  Just sayin'.

But in the last month, I've witnessed a resurgence of interest in art from Cael and Graham, and if the number of hung pictures and crayon nubs are any indication of his talent, I'd say he's a budding Van Gogh.

If I let the art speak for itself, however, I'd say he may have some issues.

Those must have come from Daddy, too.

"Who is this, Cael?"


"That's Muscle Guy.  Because he's got huge, big muscles.  And skinny legs."

"Okay.  And this person?"

"That's Nipple Man.  Look how many nipples he's got!"

"Why on earth would he need so many nipples, Cael?"

"Because he's awesomer that way!"

"And..."  Oh, my.  "Who is that?"

"That's Bob."

"Let's go practice baseball, Cael..."