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.