WE HAVE A ARTIST IN THE FAMILY.

We are up at our house. At least the dogs and I. They are both outside and I m hoping for the best. Cool and a little damp outside at 5:00 am, in case you are interested.

Small children are so neat. They look at everything around them with wonder and awe. They are funny. quizzical, always exploring and asking why. They can spend hours watching a bug. Take a box and make a house. It is called imagination. The sad fact is as we get older we tend to lose our imagination and the magic of our life's are sometimes lost.

Yesterday a young member of our family let his imagination kick into high gear. And the results were hilarious. At least I think so. Let me tell you and you decide for yourself.

Ryan is four years old. Ryan is a charmer.. White blond hair, my brother calls him cotton top. Eyes that are so blue. As he gets older there will be many a girl fall under the spell of those beautiful blue eyes. He is ornery, funny and can captivate your heart with one smile. Ryan definitely has an imagination. A stick in the yard can become a tool for him to work on the swing. Always thinking.

Yesterday I called my daughter. Just to check on everyone. She didn't answer. A few minutes later she called back, out of breath. "yes", she said sounding a Little stressed out. "Just wanted to see if you are all okay," I said quickly. "Your grandson is giving me problems." Then I heard her call out, "Ryan keep scrubbing." Well I knew from those words something had happened. She proceeds to tell me what had transpired.

Before I tell you, I would like to tell you how I think the following events came into play. Ryan, she said had been watching Television. She was in the other room. I think Ryan sitting there on the couch, watching TV and he looked around restlessly. Kids you must remember are always thinking, thinking ahead. His eyes fell on a new bottle of fingernail polish. Before you think oh no, let me assure you it gets even better from here on. I think he picked the bottle up, his eyes lighting up. He knew what they did with nail polish. But he also knew if he polished or tried to his fingernails his grandma would see and know he did it. He looked at his bare feet. He always takes his shoes off. His toe nails, no she would see that too. What could he polish that she would not see. A idea was born. I told you at four they have very strong imaginations. He would paint his winky. Men and boys are fascinated with their winky's from the day they are born. As they get older they usually name them. So his winky probably seemed like a cool idea at least at the moment.

Billie said he came to her and said his winky hurt. She told him to go pee. "You haven't went for awhile" , she told him. He went, she heard him again, she followed. Big tears were flowing down his face. "My winky hurts," he said crying. She looked closer. Good grief, he had painted his winky. By this time I was laughing very hard.

She put him in the tub. She gave him a wash rag.
Scrub, Ryan ," she told him. I would say she was probably hollering by this time. "You have to get that polish off quick." He scrubbed. She said as he scrubbed so hard, crying. The problem began to grow larger if you get the meaning here. This was going on as we talked. It was funny, very funny. "I have never ever had this problem with any of the others.," she said very exasperated. Well maybe none of the others are artists, I thought. Most of it came off finally. I worried that maybe it could cause infection around the tip. She thought it would be okay. I think she did not want to take him to the emergency room with a nail polished winky.

Isn't it fun having kids around. They definitely keep you on your toes. But for you big guys out there. If you are sitting around bored some afternoon and spot a bottle of polish on the coffee table. Let me give you a word from the wise. DON'T DO IT.! Ryan says it hurts. And Ryan knows from experience.