My Little Art Director

In the car after I picked up Daffodil from her mum’s:

Daffodil: “I want you to draw me a picture.”

Me: “Okay. What kind of a picture.”

Daffodil: “This one is a picture of a cat.”

Me: “Alright.”

Daffodil: “Somebody is holding her.”

Me: “Alright.”

Daffodil: “It’s a girl, remember?”

Me: “Uh, okay.”

Daffodil: ” And there’s a boy.”

Me: “This is getting to be quite a picture.”

Daffodil: “He helps her take care of the cat.”

Me: “Ah… okay.”

Daffodil: “In a living room. With lots of decorations.”

Me: “Sigh…”

Daffodil: “He has a dog.”

Me: “Okay…”

Daffodil: “It’s a chihuahua. A really small chihuahua.”

Me: “There are no big chihuahuas.”

Daffodil: “Can chihuahuas be fat?”

Me: “Yes…”

Daffodil: “That makes them look really big.”

Arriving home, we proceeded to greet our not-chihuahua and then start production on the drawing. After a few strokes on the girl’s face:

Daffodil: “What are you drawing?”

Me: “A little girl.”

Daffodil: “She looks like a big girl.”

Me: “How big?”
Daffodil: “A teenager. Are teenagers grown-ups?”

Me: “No. They’re children. Obnoxious children.”

Daffodil: “Why are they obnoxious?”

Me: “Because they think they’re grown-ups.”

Daffodil: “I do that sometimes.”

Me: ” . ”

Daffodil: “Is that cat sleeping?”

Me: “It’s resting, anyway. It’s always hard to tell if a cat is really sleeping.”

Daffodil: “Now draw the boy.”

Me: “Is he a big boy or a little boy?”

Daffodil: “Big.”

Me: “Bigger than the girl?”

Daffodil: “Yeth.”

Daffodil: “What is that?”

Me: “It’s his head.”

Daffodil: “Is that supposed to be a dog?”

Me: “Either that or a big mouse.”

Daffodil: “It’s a chihuahua.”

Me: “They have kind of pointy faces.”

Daffodil: “But it doesn’t need a beak.”

Me: “Do you want this to be a basket or a bucket.”

Daffodil: “A bucket.”

Me: “Okay. He’s going to give the chihuahua a bath.”

Daffodil: “Don’t forget the party decorations!”

I draw bunting and a picture frame.

Daffodil: “What’s that? A window?”

I draw a face in it.

Daffodil: “Oh. A picture frame. Draw another one.”

I do.
Daffodil: “This one is a girl.”

Me: “Okay.”

Daffodil: “Now a window. And their back yard. What are those pointy things?”

Me: “A fence. A picket fence.”

Daffodil: “Okay. Now don’t forget the streamers!”

Daffodil: “Ahhh…. Isn’t it beautiful….”

While I ate dinner, Daffodil colored and embellished the drawing. It is now even more beautiful.



Conversation Through A Bathroom Door

Daffodil: (on the toilet) “Kalrlaek rlk elme dwoel rele ma”.

(This, for those unfamiliar with the graphic-layout trade, is called ‘greeking’. It is meaningless text that fills up a space when the final text is not yet available. In this case, it represents statements that may or not have been addressed to me, but which I could not understand.)

Daffodil: “Maoweil alkj ellkrj alkejr mmkelr akdk slkemii. Lidht mahialk. Eket lkjpoar, copi, coijl.”

Daffodil: “Boys are stinky except for my dad.”

Me: “Did you just say ‘Boys are stinky except for my dad’?”


Me: “That’s what I said.”

Daffodil: “MY dad! Not your dad! My dad!”

Me: “Okay. I get it.”

Daffodil: “They are stinky, stinky, stinky. They smell bad.”

Me: “Alright…”

Daffodil: “But I don’t tell them. I don’t want to hurt their feelings.”