Father-Son Art

Our youngest is fascinated with my boss. They've never met, but my kid knows vaguely that my boss is the guy who keeps me employed and, at my kids' end of things, supplied in food, shirts and pants he hates, and new Lego sets. So I'm constantly badgered into drawing pictures of my boss for him. Here we have a drawing of me with my boss. I'm on the right, drawn by my son. My boss is on the left.

Yes, my boss is bald, a fact that really bothers my youngest. He insists that I draw hair on my boss every time. So I do a token stubble, and that seems to satisfy the boy.

A-Camping We Will Go

In our house, we love camping. And hiking. And all sorts of outdoor activity. We've climbed volcanoes, hiked mountain trails, wandered the forests and swam in the oceans. This summer we begin a grand new adventure of hauling a 16 foot camper with our Honda Pilot. We've had a small Toyota pickup for the chore, but it's not got the cab space or gusto to go where we'd like. So, in anticipation of our new roving abilities this summer, our middle child drew with Pilot-camper combination. She was a bit concerned that the camper got cut off because of margins, but I told her that the point is made.

Evolution of the Suit

Our youngest is still fascinated with suits. Some of it is nostalgia for his first suit, which he quickly outgrew. He still holds the jacket in reverence in his closet -- the pants he could care less about; he's never been a fan of pants.

So he still draws suits. And the suit drawings he churns out are becoming more detailed. Behold:

Note the stitching, the addition of a bow tie and belt buckle. Still got that vacant, doll-eye expression, though, typical of his drawings. He's here now, offering comments:

Is that a picture of me? That is me! I wish you could get another one on your computer. A different kind, so I can type about it: This is me, and it would say I love you at the end, and it would say Love Isaac at the end.

He's so stream of consciousness, that boy.

The drawing also included this note:

It says (that is, if you can't read it):

Dear Dad i love you you are so handome do you no that your son is writing to you i like you. when you make fireplace.

I don't know what the meaning of that last sentence is, either.

Dad Doodles Part I

Lest anyone think I'm only putting up this blog to make fun of the things my kids draw, here's something of me own. I won't venture to explain all the doodles, except to say most of them were done while I was watching a documentary on the Philadelphia Experiment on YouTube. Highly cerebral stuff, as long as you don't mind learning about psyhco storytellers who not only believe in teleportation but that the first successful experiment in teleportation occurred in 1943.

So enjoy. And psychoanalyze if you like.

Yo, Coach!

A few nights ago, we had a family game night done under the direction of our oldest son who was working on a Webelos Scout requirement.

He came out with a whistle on a string, a ballcap and this name tag, minus the scribblings of his youngest brother. He bossed us around pretty good as we played a fun game of backyard baseball.

This is part of our childrens' incessant need to label things. About a week ago, I was on the couch half asleep when I heard our daughter come up, babble something about "And here's Dad," she patted me, then left. I woke up later with a little masking tape label that said "Dad" on it. I see futures for them as ISO 9000 auditors.

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.

In His Father's Image

When I was a kid, I really, really wanted to be Carl Sagan. His PBS show "Cosmos" was the big hit at our house, so his weekly installments of billyuns and billyuns of fun and fascinating facts about the universe really inspired me to check out all the books I could on space from the local library, multiple times.

And, of course, to make maps of the solar system. Many, many maps of the solar system.

Now our oldest is following in my loopy footsteps. Here's the Davidson Version of the Universe.

Suck-Up Art

Every parent gets art like this and, unless they're absolute jerks, every parent loves getting art like this. I'm talking Suck-Up Art. That's what we cynical people call it. But coming from a child, such artwork -- like this from our daughter -- is sincere. It's the kind of stuff to be treasured up because darn tootin' it's not likely to be repeated when the kids are teenagers. But I should remain optimistic and give my children the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they'll be adorable as teens. They sure are adorable now. And that's even before the Suck-up Art arrived.