Last night, while performing a much-needed clearing of my desk, E wandered in and happened to catch me putting some of his old homework in the recycle bin.
"Mom!" He exclaimed, with a shocked look on his face. "What are you doing? Why are you throwing away my art?!"
"I'm keeping the good ones, don't worry." (Probably not the best choice of excuses, in retrospect, but hindsight is 20/20 and I hadn't meant to get caught. He treasures his handiwork.)
"Well, I'm going to stand here and keep an eye on you." He took a sturdy, determined stance right at my elbow, and bent his eagle eye on me, a disapproving glare writ on his face.
"Ok...??" I murmured, somewhat cowed.
"Because, what if, someday far away, when my wife has children, that artwork could inspire my children?!?!"
Always thinking ahead, that one.
Luckily for me, D reminded him that we have countless files (and paper copies) of his artwork saved up, and it's not likely to go anywhere before those nebulous children make their existences known.
I'm not sure whether he's really that concerned with the artistic development of his offspring or just egotistical...He's seven, though, and the world really does revolve around him, so I suppose I can't blame him.
My slightly-insane life and times
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