It’s always a little scary when you encounter little people. [Not these. These.] Especially little people who have drawn a masterpiece. They have spent long, long seconds of their life – nay, dare I say whole chunks of minutes – digging deep into their little souls for inspiration. And then they come to you and say, “Look what I drew, Mom.” Words such as these are viewed, rightfully so, as downright frightening. Right up there with, “Mom, there’s a spider.”
Here’s what Luke drew recently.
What to say?
With the older two, I’d have to pussyfoot around to discover what, exactly, I was looking at when they presented me pictures at his age. (Even now, with Sammy tepidly interested in Pokemon – more to annoy me, I think, than a true attraction – I have to tread carefully when she brings some Metapod or Jigglypuff for me to comment on.
Back to Luke. What I said was, “I see my name. And Dad’s. And I love all the different shapes with different colors. What does it mean?”
His response? And, really, so obvious once he said it that I’m still kicking myself for not getting it right away.
“Evil shapes are taking over the world,” he said.
Indeed, they are.
[And let me add, apropos my obsessive nature in trying to find images and the like. Do not do a Google search of “group of midgets.” There is a very icky image there. It’s the last one on the first page. (Or at least it was.) Don’t look. Really.]