I so wanted to be the mom who is able to celebrate everything my kids do, to see the beauty in their attempts, to set up shrines to their endeavors. But I’m not. I’ve gotten over it, so you should too – let’s get that out of the way right now so that I don’t have to roll my eyes at any comments about how everything a child does is a gift.
Because sometimes what kids do is produce butt ugly art.
I have to assume that some day Fiona will stumble upon this entry and be deeply hurt by her mother calling her brown, lopsided bowl butt ugly, but truth is truth, and when her kid brings home a papier mache horse that looks like it was spawned inside of a nuclear cooling tower, she’ll understand. Still, apologies Fiona. Feel free to get back at me on your own blog by telling people something embarrassing about me – you’ve got plenty to choose from.
Just about everything has a learning curve. And not everybody is good at everything. Let me be clear that I am in no way criticizing the attempt. I am simply bitching about the fact that I now have in my possession this thing that, frankly, looks like it was crafted out of a big turd. This is either the stepping stone to my daughter’s future career in pottery, or the best she can do before moving on to something she’s good at. Either way, I seem to be stuck with it, because she gave it to me with so much pride.
What the hell do you do with something like that? Would you display it, just to humor her? Tell her it broke while you were dusting it? (Damn, she’ll see right through that one – I don’t dust.) Throw it out and if she ever asks, tell her I sent it out to be encased in lucite for all eternity, and the damn post office lost it?
Or just tell her that while I appreciate the effort, it was just too ugly to display in my house?
Knowing my daughter, I’ve got a good shot at simply making it disappear – out of sight, out of mind. But perhaps I should just make it disappear to the basement, in case she does ask about it some day. “Oh, I put it somewhere safe until we could build a custom shelf to display it on!” By the time she realizes what I’m doing, she’ll be in college.
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