Your three year old will not always draw little whales and birds on his bed sheets.
He will graduate to dragons and creatures of the dinosaur age.
Then he will begin artwork for his own fantasy novel that he spends his teenage years writing. Tonight he says, “And I have to go take my shirt off and look at my tummy. Because it’s almost humanoid.” (His dad asks, “What? Your tummy?) And I immediately suspect it’s one of those that enter the uncanny valley and it will give me the creeps. I don’t even like dolls.
He will also take an art course in high school and draw your dog, your house, and your farm. And some of the projects he will enjoy and others he will grit his teeth and do because he must.
But you know what? From time to time you’re still gonna find him in odd positions. It will make you smile.
He will no longer draws cute little animals on the walls and bedsheets. He will be fully potty trained. I remember worrying about that back in the day. He will be sixteen one day and come home happy at 9 o’clock on Sunday evening after a good day with friends. He will milk your cow and haul firewood with very little complaint. And you will be so stinking proud to be his mom. Even when you don’t like all the creepy monsters he draws.
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