The other evening after I got home from running some errands, Audrey came up to me with a picture.
She loves to draw, and there are several times during they day when I have a paper shoved under my nose, as a little voice proudly says, "Look, look at what I did, Mom!" Usually, it's a stack of pictures, variations on her theme of the day...multiple studies, if you will.
I had no sooner set down my keys when she bumped into me, vibrating with excitement. "Mommy, I made this while you were gone," as she handed me the picture.
There were lots of sticky figures, with hair and faces, some with glasses and some not...but under them, at about hip level, these black thorax-looking things, in addition to legs. I must've had a curious look on my face, because before I could ask, she explained.
"See, that one, that's Ben. And these," (she points to the black thorax-y thing), "these are his dumps."
I was a little horrified and a lot amused. I took the picture and her hand, and we went in search of Mr W, who was in his usual spot in our room--sitting on the bed watching tv.
Placing the picture in front of him, I started to tell him what she said, and he interrupted me, smiling, "Yeah, I saw those."
"You know," I said, "most little girls draw pictures of butterflies. Rainbows, unicorns, ponies...ballerinas....but my daughter draws pictures of her brothers sitting on piles of ...poop."
I am sure Van Gogh got started this way.