Now that the pee puddles are finally starting to dissipate around here, we are finding ourselves surrounded by rain puddles. Sir is already getting antsy and, with Hurricane Irene headed our way, we have at least 3 more days of this ahead of us.
So, once again, we turned to the art supplies to keep us entertained.
I set Sir up with his fancy-schmancy paper plate palette loaded up with several colors of paint (which would quickly turn to goopy gray once he started stirring things up with his brushes), and we were off to the races.
He was very vocal about his painting today, so I decided to try to get a little video interview going. I managed to get a few good clips, but then he stopped cooperating and I was just distracting him. So, I decided to just sit back and let him work until I was beckoned to roll out new paper or refill his color supply.
As I glanced down at my phone to read an email, I heard a little voice say, ‘I paint my knee.’ I looked up to find Sir with a lovely paint splotch on his left knee, which he then insisted on wiping off with a paper towel. He went back to work on his easel for a moment and then…’I paint my knee.’ This time, he covered his entire knee with a big circle of paint.
Now, usually my raging OCD would kick-in at this point, but for some reason I decided that instead of freaking out and grabbing the nearest wet washcloth, I would just to let him go with it. And go he did.
He proceeded to paint his fingers. Then he put a large stripe up each arm. He painted his nose, his toes, up and down his legs. Then he sat down and started to work on his pièce de résistance.
He loaded up his brush, contorted himself in that way that only toddlers can (how in the world can they be so flexible?) and proceeded to paint the bottom of his foot. It was quite a process and sight to behold. He was determined to cover the whole thing, and he probably would have if it hadn’t been for that pesky detail of having to stand up to get more paint. Every time he stood up, the paint would come off on the rug (and I did NOT freak out! Can you believe it?). So, then he would sit down and start all over again.
When lunch time rolled around, I had to literally tear him away from his paints (and give him a good scrubbing in the tub). The whole thing left him feeling pretty satisfied with himself as he recounted the story at the lunch table, naming each body part that had previously been covered in paint.
Here are a few photos I managed to shoot during the event (which I’m sure will repeat itself at least one more time this rainy weekend).
working on a toe
reloading his brush
taking a moment to work on his actual painting
touching up his arm
arranging his brushes after finishing work
photos : sir’s palette & the great body painting escapade by yours truly