Airport Nonsense

During a brief layover in Atlanta, the boys and I settled into a corner near our gate. I broke out the Doodle-A-Day coloring books and two boxes of perfect, unblemished crayons. Even I can’t resist the call of a new box of crayons.

Another little boy joined us. He preferred to be called Nick the Policeman.

I love Doodle-A-Day because it offers just enough structure for a spark of inspiration on each page.

“Draw fireworks in the night sky.”
“Draw a picnic on the blanket.”
“Draw such beautiful feathers on these birds so that nobody can decide which one is prettier.”
“These seashells need lovely patterns.”
“This boy is inside a box. Draw a way for him to get out.”

“Tuck, what did you draw for him to get out of the box?”

“A gun.”

“No, that wouldn’t help him, really.” I was leaning more toward a ladder or a window.

His brother offers, “Tuck, you could draw a bomb.”

Yes, please. More with the talk of guns and bombs. Here in the airport. Please show yourselves to be familiar with the topic and how to illustrate it.

Honestly. This kind of influence could lead a girl to homeschool.

Except not me. I outsource that.

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