What Brings a Smile to My Face

My kids bring a smile to my face.

Well, not always. Sometimes they make me gnash my teeth. But a lot of the time they make me smile.

Today, my son painted at the easel for the first time. He and his sister, protected by their matching “Happiness is Making Messes” aprons, stood side by side, brushes in hand. (I had them sequestered in the tiled kitchen while the carpet cleaner did his work in the rest of the house.) My daughter painted a large, two-colored “54” at the top of the paper, then a picture of the carpet cleaner’s dog in the middle of the paper. My son painted the same corner of the paper over and over again, signing that he was painting an elephant, then a dog, then a sheep, then a fish.

That was a smiley time for me.

It was even worth the amount of pre-treater I had to use on their clothes, in spite of the aprons.