Rainbows and Unicorns

If I said this drawing was from my middle child, you'd see nothing out of the ordinary with it. Rainbows. Flying figures. All so girly.

But this is a drawing from my son, the youngest. Our manly man. He's so macho he won't hold hands any more, though he will consent to hugs. From his mother. Dad is allowed to playfully punch. That's it.

But under the influence of a neighborhood child who will be known on this blog as the Poison Dwarf, he drew this happy little picture, without even drawing in dark clouds or having the happy, smiling unicorn person be struck by lightning. Oh well. He'll man up later, I suppose.