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A couple of months ago, Henry and I had a heart-to-heart about his penchant for scribbling on the walls (scribbling is my term – he would call it “dwawing” as in “Thee Mommy! Wook at my dwawing!”).
My attempts to suppress his creative impulses backfired. Instead, he appears to have experienced an artistic breakthrough. Today, I found this strategically mounted on the underside of the loft in his bedroom where it could not be seen from the doorway:
His composition is pretty good, don’t you think?
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