Last night Sophie came up to me while I was in the kitchen eating everything that wasn’t nailed down. 

"Mom!" she said, "I am going to draw a picture for my teacher and she is going to love it!"

"That’s great, honey.  Your art stuff is right there by the table."

"It’s gonna be ME, on a cross!"  With this, she held her arms out to the side, stuck out her tongue, shut her eyes, and let her head loll to the side. 

"Uh.  I don’t think that’s such a good idea.  Most people who believe in Jesus would feel like that isn’t very respectful.  Maybe you could draw a picture of you. . .  reading a book.  Or, planting flowers or jumping rope."

"I know!  I’ll draw a picture of ME, on the table!  And, I’ll be all tied up with ropes!  And my feet, my feet will be NAILED, to the table!"

*sigh* "Uh.  No.  I don’t think she’d like that.  It’s a little, uh. . . violent."

"How about if I’m hanging from a cross?"

At the same time I said, "No," Lex said, "How about if you are hanging, FROM A RAINBOW OR SOMETHING NICE?"

"Pffft," she said, "that is soooooo babyish," then she stormed off, completely pissed because no one here understands her artistic vision.