The sigh that escaped my lips came from my very center. I draw on all my patience,

“I was gone for five minutes! What happened here?!”

The walls were smeared from floor to all of 3 and a half feet (91.44 cm) with bright purple crayon and meat sauce. And parsley.

My 4 year old is scribbling furiously and bracing himself against the wall with his dinner covered hands as if in deep focus.

He holds up a very tiny finger, still scribbling and then finishes off with a flourish! The nerve.

“Behold” (which comes out beho’d) he says stepping back arms wide as if he’s just finished the Mona Lisa.

I’m looking at a very crude likeness of what I think is either the Cookie Monster or Barney and then he bows.

“You’re very own personal complimentary masterpiece. The next one will cost ya.”

I’m speechless. When did he get into business?

“Sweet baby, what is it?” Comes out instead.

“You mommy!” He runs at me with red arms and a sauce smeared diaper like a little spaghetti demon and hugs my legs.