It all started when I read this book. I no longer remember the name of this book, but suffice it to say that as my co-author and I (Reading With Babies, Toddlers and Twos) are to reading with small children, this author was to small children and art. She was for it. She was for lots of it. Unfettered access to art supplies, lots of room to create, paint galore!

But even she probably would not have given a six-year old and two five-year olds this:

Nice big jugs, aren't they?

And this:

Gosh, that sure looks like the paint jug to me.

And left them alone to create this:

The box, by the way, is stuck tight.

That’s my basement floor. The paints are now off limits until smaller containers can be found. A little talk about the importance of FRIGGIN’ GOING TO GET SOMEONE WHEN YOU SPILL THAT MUCH PAINT has been had. And the glue, which was mixed with the paint on several occasions with a wide variety of unpleasant results: that glue is GONE.

But Lily does want to be an artist when she grows up. So clearly my entire plan was indeed successful. Her glorious basement explorations have led her to aspire to a career where success is difficult to judge and even more difficult to achieve, and her likelihood of supporting herself is almost nil. What did I say I was thinking again?