Paint

After the nail polish experience, I thought that maybe Josh would like to paint.  He could pick his colors, put them in the order he wanted...perfect solution, right?  I had picked up a paint set with some posters at the dollar store the week before and gave it to him yesterday.  He seemed excited. Feeling like I'd finally found something that might bring Josh some desire to focus and work hard, I set him up with his paint, water cup and paper outside on the driveway. (He chose that spot, not me.) I watched for a second as he dipped his brush in the green paint and smiling to myself I walked inside.  As I busied myself with computer work, I marveled that Josh had already been outside for 15 min.  When I heard the door open a few min later, I was excited to see what Josh had accomplished  in all that time. I knew in my heart that he had carefully painted the posters with utmost care and concern.  I was sooo wrong.

                                                  A painted dandelion, just for me.

Future Career?

Last week when we arrived home from church, I pulled out my collection of nail polish.  Spring seemed to finally be here and I was ready to paint my toe nails.  As I was studying the colors, Josh saw what I was doing and came over to investigate.  He asked me if he could choose the color.  Sure, whatever.  I didn't have a color in mind so no big deal.  He looks for a minute and then says "Can I pick a different color for your toes?" I've never been a fan of multi-colored toe nails, but Josh was pretty excited for it so I let him.  He then looks at my right foot and touches each toe as he counts to five.  "You have 5 toes, so I need to pick 5 colors." He turns back to the polish and after a few seconds asks me "Can I pick a different color for all your toes?"  Oh brother.  I just want to paint my nails!  I tell him that would be fine and he says "Ok.  5+5= 10.  You have 10 toes mom! That means you need 10 colors."  After another 5 min, he has finally picked out the ones he wants me to use.  I head to the family room and prepare to get to work.  He comes and sits down by me and says "I'll tell you what color goes on what toe, okay mom?"  I knew they were going to look ugly anyway so it didn't matter to me what order I put them on.  He hands me the colors as I need them and lines the bottles along the window sill, perfectly organized with all the labels facing forward.  He talks to me during the painting process. "I can't paint your nails though until I'm older and my hand is steady, huh?  And when you're a grandma I'll come and paint your nails for you, so don't move far away.  Because I don't want to only see you at Easter and Christmas times." I smile and remind him that this is the house we plan on being in for a very long time and that HE'S the one that shouldn't move far away.  He smiled and agreed. Despite the looks that Mike gave me while I let his only son make plans to paint my nails, I had a lot of fun with Josh.  For all the stress and grief he gives me, he sure is a good kid.  This does bring up a good thought to ponder.  Where will Josh be in 20 years?