The Drawing

You stand at the coffee table, the cartoon show blares in the background - mum is not allowed to change the channel. The table is covered in an array of pencils, crayons, textas, bits and pieces of paper, 5 cent coins and a rock collection from the garden. You don't notice mum looking at you whilst she slowly sips her coffee. She is so proud of her baby with his cheeky smile.

You have the blue texta in your hand now, the table itself is already covered in green, orange and red scribblings . Mum secretly smiles that the textas are water-based and can easily clean off the table once today's art class closes and nap time begins. Maybe she'll finish her cup of coffee then. You notice mum looking at you. Ask her to draw you a picture. Mum picks up the orange crayon and draws you a flower, then the yellow for the sun, the black for a house and the green for three special people who live in the house. Your eyes never leave the crayon as it delineates so carefully on the paper. Transfixed to the images that's now filled the blank white page.

You ask mum to draw a dog, then a cat, a cow, a guitar, a car. She obligatorily continues to indulge you.

Mum then asks you to draw. "Draw a face" she says. Draw a circle for the face, draw the eyes, "how about a nose and mouth?" You yell out "moustache!". So you draw it. Mum asks "where are it's ears and it's hair?". You finish your drawing and mums mouth falls. Gone are the days of the free flow scribbles but an actual drawing of a Face.

My little man, merely 2 years old and is already starting to grow up and draw pictures.