Vivian took the opportunity to sketch me the other evening. It was a hot night, and I was wearing a tank top, something rare in Calgary after the fall equinox. I sat still as she walked over to me, repositioned my chin, and went back to her sketch pad. Frida Kahlo was in da house.
Vivian finished and unveiled her art, with pride.
I was amazed at the detail.
“Fantastic, Viv,” I oozed. “You put in so much detail. You even drew breasts, and you managed to capture the blood vessels in my eyes.”
“Well, I didn’t actually didn’t put in all the detail,” Vivian said. “I left out your wrinkles.”
Out of the mouths (and pencils) of babes.
Here’s what some of the peeps on my Ironic Mom Facebook Page had to say:
Your turn. Comment away.