I’ve started painting. With brushes and a paint set.

I take ownership of my amateur status (in the best sense of that word).  I love painting!

When my adored child-play creations are dry, I pin them to the fridge. Passing by I stop and preen like a girl in front of a mirror, listening as the refrigerator pictures talk back to me.

“What a pretty picture I am!”

My husband complimented one of them.

“I like that.”

Wow! Somebody likes them!

Another friend said

“I enjoy your little pictures.”

This crumb boosted my confidence like a load of jet fuel.

I started to crave the confidence boosting.

I couldn’t resist asking my son (age 21).

“Do you like my picture?”

His response was slow to come.

Oh dear. What have I done?

My seedling painting practice is not ready to be unearthed by any hint of a negative reply.

After a long silence, my son said,

“Yes. I like your picture.”

Happy Day!

“But I hope you’re not going to have it framed.”