Every day I come home to a new Pablo Good Doctor Picasso. This is one of Emmy's favorite toys, she loves to doodle on it and then hand you the pen when it's your turn to draw. Problem is, Mommy can draw shapes and stick figures. I can manage the occasional one line sea gull and certainly the basic sun, moon, and stars.
But undersea adventures, space walks, jungle scenes, and complex M.C. Escher drawings are the stuff of Dada's domain.
He draws them with a great flourish, narrating each little sketch as it reveals into a familiar elephant or robot or endangered arctic fox. Emmy always seems disappointed when I draw my same square, circle, or OOOH LOOK EMMY--Mommy drew a SWIRL!
But she is a toddler Tibetan monk. All art is temporary. She will look at The Good Doctor's masterpieces for 2 seconds and then swipe! Gone. It's very good to be around children. They remind you nothing is sacred or permanent.
What talent do you lord over your spouse?