My one-year-old’s newest obsession? Painting.
Before you lean in and scrunch your face up and gush, oh that’s sooo cuuuute, let me explain something.
He paints with his thick, the-molars-are-coming saliva.
And his paintbrush? A small, pointy, plastic carrot from his kitchen set.
Oh, and this is the best part. His canvas? The leather couch at my mom’s.
Yeah. My child spit-paints on my parents’ expensive furniture. (I know what some of you other parents are thinking and you’re right, I should be glad it’s not poop he’s using. Yet.)
Kellan’s like a human snail, leaving behind a glistening trail as he wanders the house with his carrot dipped in saliva hanging at his side from between two adorably pudgy fingers.
On the upside, I think we’ve got a real Van Gogh on our hands here. My parents may be able to sell these drool masterpieces for a pretty penny. And then use the money to buy new couches.
And then he’ll cover them in his juices again. And so the cycle continues.