Yesterday R. came home from Pre-K with stories of Thanksgiving. She was being read books, daily, on the upcoming holiday. She informed me that the children were each painting a cornucopia, which she pronounced quite well, much to my amazement. They, of course, were also drawing hand turkeys and constructing pilgrim hats and Indian headbands.
After she placed her backpack on the living room sofa, she unzipped it and pulled out a green folder. From this, she found a piece of paper; it had a drawing of a Thanksgiving Turkey printed on it.
Instead of running for the snack cabinet, as she does every day after school, she grabbed a container of markers and sat down to work. She had a look of complete concentration on her face. I asked her if she wanted something to eat, at least three or four times, and when I didn't receive a response, I left her to her coloring.
I watched her from across the room. She was totally engrossed in her task, as though nothing in the world was as important as finishing that picture. I smiled.
A little while later she came running into my office, waving her paper above her head.
"I'm done mommy!!" She yelled, "Look at my turkey!!"
"Wow, honey! It's beautiful. Look at all of the colors you used!" I replied.
"Do you like it?" She asked.
"Like it? I LOVE it!!!" I responded. "You did so well coloring in the lines!"
Indeed, she did pretty well for a Preschooler. I did notice, however, that she had gotten a little crazy with the brown marker in one area.
"Were you being silly over here? Did you hiccup when you were using the brown marker?" I teased.
"No mommy!! That's the turkey's poop!!"
"Ahhhhh.....silly me, I should have known!"