That day I had left work early to collect my 4year old son from his fall art camp at kindergarten. At 3pm I found my self in my Blue Nissan note with the radio on medium tone, vibing to a country song. I relaxed in the traffic for some time while the sun boiled down and waited for the wardens to direct us to the best route. I made it 3:45 at Caden’s school and was greeted by Ms Garcia his teacher that did not mention Caden’s unmatchable talent I had never seen before. My footsteps made their way into his classroom and my eyes traced his hands onto his vibrant orange and yellow painting of fall. This discovery had me questioning if this four year old boy was my son. Caden had a profound painting skill, one similar to an experienced painter. The leaves in this painting had texture which brought it to live. It was perfectly crinkled and cut to mimic those that lay lifeless beneath Sycamore trees during fall season. I yelled to Ms Garcia and asked her if she had known how well he could paint and she said “ He must love fall”. Before I knew it he turned to me and said,“Daddy I want to be a painter”. I smiled cheek to cheek being able to see my son’s future through his painting.