Perhaps I was not clear.

After lunch today, Holly and Ryan asked me if they could do a little painting. I had no problem with this, of course, seeing as how that was perfect for them to do while I was attempting to catch up to with the neverending chore of dishes. (Dishes and Laundry, no matter how much you do them, there will always be more to do within a few hours.)

So painting away they were, I finished and sat with them for a while. I watched Ryan stick the paint brush in the murky water (they were using non-toxic watercolors) and poke the bristles in his mouth. I watched Holly paint her whole paper a solid green. I watched Ryan pain on one side, then turn the soaking wet sheet over (like he does with pencil and paper) and begin to paint the other side.

So I got up to water some of the plants, I went and got the watering can and watered the flowers that were on the table where they were painting, and then on my way back to water the Ivy plants (they aren't the poisonious English Ivy, don't worry, or else we would only have Ryan) when I suggested over my shoulder: "Hey, why don't you guys paint the flowers."

Well, when I returned ten seconds later, without missing a beat, they had both climbed up on the dining room table, and were trying to paint the leaves, and flowers.

Deep breath, Tim. "I meant why don't you paint some of the flowers on your papers, kids."