Some kids draw as soon as a crayon touches their fingers. I have a few who think any bare space in the house is an acceptable art medium. And then there’s the one who won’t draw unless he absolutely has to, or unless it is a battle sequence involving Angry Birds or mice (he being the one who only tolerates our Nutcracker DVD for the mouse battle and the fast-paced Trepak). Lately he’s been surprising me by sitting down and drawing while Rascal and Princess create page after page of masterpieces. Last week I could hardly keep from laughing as this exchange happened behind me as I made dinner.
DINO (at the kitchen table): “I’m gonna draw a DEAD turkey.”
PRINCESS: (shocked) “Oh no! You can’t do that!”
DINO: “Yes I can. Look!”
PRINCESS: “No no! It needs to be ALIVE! If I found a baby turkey I would keep it for a pet and love it and never never let it be killed!”
DINO: “Well, I like mine DEAD. Dead and roasted!”
ME: “You all like roast turkey at Christmas.”
RASCAL: “That’s true.”
PRINCESS: “But he shouldn’t draw dead turkeys.”
DINO: (issuing the ultimatum) “God made turkeys so we could eat them.”
PRINCESS: (woman-like, seeking the last word) “But not all of them.”
DINO: (Undeterred, brother goading sister moment) “I’m gonna draw MORE dead turkeys now.”
I then turned from the sink to see exactly what kind of “dead turkey” he had created and found a passable resemblance to our Christmas turkey as I had prepared it for roasting, no head or neck in sight. I have to confess I put it on my fridge. Perhaps it’s my odd sense of humor, but I liked his spontaneous art. I added his profound statement regarding the purpose of turkeys. It seems to me that should be a slogan embroidered on some sort of hunting camo or something. Hmm.