A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I have been painting the walls in my house because the crayon doodle finally got to me. I just could not stand it any longer. Well, I think I have gone off the deep end. These days, I can still be found painting something new when the kids go to bed. I'll admit, I think I have a problem. I can't stop. It's gotten completely out of hand.
Otis Pierre Schloss
My son is now excitedly waking each morning to see what new canvas has been brushed with color. He skips down the stairs like it's the morning of Christmas or the first night of Chanukah. Either one. We celebrate Chrismukah so my kids are totally confused. And if that's not confusing enough, my son actually thinks our dog is the one painting our walls.
See, here's my little confession. I knew that my son would be devastated if he knew I was doing projects without him. Here's a kid who on his first day of pre-school asked the teacher, "We do crafts here right? Good! Bye Mom!" So when my son noticed that our dog Otis had a drop of paint on him, I didn't exactly correct him when he exclaimed, "Mommy! Otis painted in here!" I didn't tell him that Mommy is the crazy lady who paints at night while you're sleeping. I also didn't mention that Otis likes to sleep under the ladder, so paint inevitably gets on the poor guy. Instead, I smiled and didn't say anything. I know. I'm a bad mother. Go ahead. Judge me.
At first it was great! Otis was the star of the house and I could paint my little heart out without having to explain why my son could not be involved. I was actually feeling accomplished in my task of fighting the doodle! But then, it went too far. Not only was I getting sick of painting, my son actually started telling everyone about our dog who paints! First it was the cashiers at the grocery store, then the lady at the cleaners and most recently, his teacher! I was beginning to worry that we would never see Otis again. I feared that my son's story was so convincing, that Otis might have to start an actual side business. I'm just not sure if he can fit it in. He spends most days busily napping. I was also mildly concerned that these folks might think my kid lost his noodle.
One afternoon, I knew I was in trouble when my son came home from school and saw the new area rug in the living room. He immediately thanked Otis and asked him, "How did you carry it from the store?" Otis looked blankly at him and waited for a treat. Ok, that was that! I had to put an end to this. Now my dog was shopping for us too? So, I told the truth, "Otis didn't go to the store and get the rug. I did." My son looked at me and giggled, "Mommy, you don't have the muscles for that." With that, my son sat down next to his four legged friend and looked at him with pride. And as I watched the two snuggle, I could see that my son felt like the luckiest kid on earth to have Otis the wonder dog.
A dog who paints houses and likes shopping for rugs. What's better than that.
See, here's my little confession. I knew that my son would be devastated if he knew I was doing projects without him. Here's a kid who on his first day of pre-school asked the teacher, "We do crafts here right? Good! Bye Mom!" So when my son noticed that our dog Otis had a drop of paint on him, I didn't exactly correct him when he exclaimed, "Mommy! Otis painted in here!" I didn't tell him that Mommy is the crazy lady who paints at night while you're sleeping. I also didn't mention that Otis likes to sleep under the ladder, so paint inevitably gets on the poor guy. Instead, I smiled and didn't say anything. I know. I'm a bad mother. Go ahead. Judge me.
At first it was great! Otis was the star of the house and I could paint my little heart out without having to explain why my son could not be involved. I was actually feeling accomplished in my task of fighting the doodle! But then, it went too far. Not only was I getting sick of painting, my son actually started telling everyone about our dog who paints! First it was the cashiers at the grocery store, then the lady at the cleaners and most recently, his teacher! I was beginning to worry that we would never see Otis again. I feared that my son's story was so convincing, that Otis might have to start an actual side business. I'm just not sure if he can fit it in. He spends most days busily napping. I was also mildly concerned that these folks might think my kid lost his noodle.
One afternoon, I knew I was in trouble when my son came home from school and saw the new area rug in the living room. He immediately thanked Otis and asked him, "How did you carry it from the store?" Otis looked blankly at him and waited for a treat. Ok, that was that! I had to put an end to this. Now my dog was shopping for us too? So, I told the truth, "Otis didn't go to the store and get the rug. I did." My son looked at me and giggled, "Mommy, you don't have the muscles for that." With that, my son sat down next to his four legged friend and looked at him with pride. And as I watched the two snuggle, I could see that my son felt like the luckiest kid on earth to have Otis the wonder dog.
A dog who paints houses and likes shopping for rugs. What's better than that.
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