Many times when our children were very small, John and I would freely have adult conversations in front of them. As they grew a bit we began to speak in parent-talk. If you're a parent you know what parent-talk is...speaking in code by spelling out words or using sophisticated synonyms so
the kids don't know what or who you're discussing. For example...For the life of me, I can't comprehend how that one nearby resident of my progenitors can let their lawn grow to the point it could very well be mowed, raked and baled for hay.
When our children became old enough to hold up their end of a conversation, John and I began to include them in our some of our more mature conversations. Nothing too controversial or inappropriate, mind you.
Through this, they - like most children - have become small (or in Ren's case 5'11) replicas of their parents. This, of course, can be a good thing. For example, I am glad my children share my faith, understand the importance of not littering and have such a diverse taste in music. Sometimes, however, ehh...not such a good thing, as in a four-year-old John-Heath remarking to me as we drove down the road one summer day, "Mommy, that house still has Christmas lights hanging up. Isn't that tacky, Mommy?". Little pitchers have big ears (and even bigger mouths) is a lesson I learn again and again. And again.
Anywhoo...because John and I enjoy decorating, visit idea houses from time to time, talk about what we like in the latest Southern Living, and so on, John-Heath has picked up on this, as well. Ren has, too, of course, but it just sounds a little sweeter and funnier coming from an 8-year -old, rough and tumble boy. He will often remark to me that he thinks a certain house is pretty or that a certain piece of furniture would look good in our home.
Well, he's putting what he knows to good use. He personally decorated the wall behind his bed in his newly painted room.
After biting my lip to keep from saying too much about pin holes in the walls or size and scale, I decided it was a pretty clever attempt. Naturally, being the control freak I am, the minute I find something else for the spot his stuff will be coming down. But I had to hand it to him, and I couldn't not get a picture of his work.
P.S. The items he decided to hang...A cardboard initial of his last name, a picture of his grandfather John and other B29 trainees at flight engineer school and his replica of Abe Lincoln's hat that he bought across the street from Ford's Theatre in D.C. this summer.