We've been wanting to repaint our bedroom for a while now and finally got around to it yesterday. Jane obliged by taking two really good naps, and Samson was only too happy to pitch in and help.
His technique is a little more Jackson Pollock than Benjamin Moore, but it was really fun to have him working alongside us. Also, he is apparently union, as he kept stopping because he needed "a break."
Call me dada. This has, in the few months since my son started "talking," become my name. I'm sure (at least I hope) it will eventually morph into something less early 20th century art movementy --- but I am marked forever as dada. And this is a good thing.
I have no real advice to offer, other than always carry Cheerios and extra onesies, and I don't really have a lot of 'wacky' adventures to regale you with. Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for you. So, uh, thanks for stopping by. I hope it's at least an interesting time-killer.
And if not, consider this an ironic exercise in skewering the bourgeouis notions of 21st century American parenthood by deconstructing the materialist ethos that has turned childhood into a demographic and rendered adults simultaneous enablers and slaves. Or something.
1 comment:
its all those union stickers on his hard hat
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