There was a window of opportunity to tackle my to-do list, today. The baby took a morning nap, so I got down to business. Dug out the dark brown paint, (Turkish Coffee, I think) found a paint brush whose bristles I could coerce into bending and prepared to paint the gate to the back yard. Except the lid of the paint can could not be removed for any amount of money. A crow bar, a knife, a screwdriver, finally pliers. Many minutes later, the lid – forever ruined – was off.
I started painting. And while I was painting I thought about a couple of things. One, that I’m an idiot and should have left the funky gate – craftily put together by J with random pieces of wood from his ‘Garage Collection 2007’ – alone. Two, that, annoying as it can be sometimes, we are pretty fortunate to have a boy who loves nothing more than to be outside morning, noon and night. Preferably digging in dirt, mulch, or sand.
Right about the time I finished that thought, G made eye contact and said ‘I want to help you paint.’ Uh, okay. I couldn’t really come up with any excuses – we were outside, the damage would be minimal, it might help his gross motor skills….. So I found a brush that was even worse than the one I was using and handed it to him, and he started painting. [Think globs of dark paint dripping everywhere. And whenever he got paint on his hands, he’d wipe them off on my jeans. Thanks!]
To be fair, the brush put him at a considerable disadvantage. I tried to patiently instruct him in the ways of painting – particularly the ‘removing any excess paint from the brush before applying paint’ part. But really, things were going pretty well, even if it was slowing me down and I feared the baby would start crying before we finished.
‘I’m just going to paint over here now,’ he said. ‘Uh huh,’ I replied absentmindedly, without looking to see what he was actually doing.
Painting the paving stones is what he was doing.