Sometimes when you least expect it, one of your children shocks you with something magical. For me, it happened last night on of all things, a cocktail napkin at a restaurant.
My four year old passed me this hand drawn masterpiece (after asking me repeatedly, how do you write “Mom? How do you write an ‘M’, what is an ‘O’ and then another ‘M’ after that? That doesn’t sound right.”)
We quietly exchanged napkins, amazing that the picture wasn’t smeared with chicken wing grease and said, “This is you. I call it ‘Up Hair, Down Hair.'”
The likeness is uncanny.
