Years ago, my favorite daughter (that’s her on the left-she doesn’t do face shots-shrug) attended some sort of artsy workshop. She was about fifteen years old, extremely bright, very creative, and well…you know…I’m her mom, what can I say, she is…and was…perfect.
So when she wanted to show me what she had made I was excited to see it. But when she pulled her Mona Lisa out of that bag I couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed until I was doubled over.
She was not amused. In fact, she was honestly wounded. After which, I felt horrible and tried quite desperately to do a complete about face. “No, honey, it’s wonderful, it’s beautiful. It’s…” Oh man, I still can’t look at that thing without laughing. And I look at it a lot, because it’s hanging in my office. Not that it has always been there. Oh no. Since it was dubbed Glorious Meadow, and proclaimed to be GORGEOUS it’s been everywhere because that very day I promised to cherish it forever. And by ‘cherish’ I actually meant I would torment her with it for as long as I live. So at odd moments it will show up where she least expects it. Once, for instance, it magically appeared on her music stand in high school. (Her teacher did kind of give me the stink eye when I explained my motives.) When she went on a class trip to Washington D.C. I wrapped up in her swimming suit, and when she and her husband vacationed in Austria, it was cushioned between a rib-knit sweater and her blue jeans. (In the above pic it is overlooking a little Austrian village.) Recently she informed me that she was having friends over to see her new house. In my brilliance, I gave it to her hubby and asked him to make sure it had a place of prominence on the mantel before the tour began.
At this juncture, I’d like to add that this is by no means a one way street. I’ve found Glorious Meadow in my car, in my silverware drawer, and in my horse’s stall. It never fails to crack me up.
Recently, however, daughter mine has turned her ahum…creative talents elsewhere. A few months ago, she suggested that we write a book together. (Everyone should write a book with her daughter.)A few months ago, she offered to help me out with covers for my e-books. And even more recently, she made a video for Uncorked, my latest Chrissy McMullen book. (Is it wrong that I told her that one of Chrissy ummmm…suitors is battery-run and named Francois?) I laughed just as hard when she showed me the video, but in a nicer way.
Anyway…please tell me I’m not the only one who delights in tormenting her kids. Or the only one who believes so profoundly in mining their wee ones’ talents for their own good. Come on…let the stories begin.