Just Waitin' for My Macaroni Art
During my long, long struggle to become a mom, my own mother kept my spirits up by telling me, "It's only a matter of time until you'll have macaroni art on your refrigerator." You know you're a parent when the short person who lives in your house hands you a paper plate with uncooked macaroni glued to it (another variation is the macaroni necklace, strung on colorful yarn). Most schools have a long-standing tradition of using pasta as an art medium. When my youngest sister was in preschool, she brought home a macaroni frame with her smiling wallet-sized photo glued into the middle. The best part? The macaroni frame had been spray-painted gold. I sure hope it's still in a Christmas box somewhere at my parents' house.
Though I have not yet received any macaroni art, I think I am getting close. I received this:
Ain't she a beaut? There is at least half a pound of glue holding those goldfish crackers in place. My refrigerator (or fridgelator, as the artist herself calls it) is groaning under the weight of this installation. The magnetic clip is hanging on for dear life.
The kid continues to draw bodyless people and then demands "sticky tape" so that she can attach her artwork to random walls in our home. The four-eyed boy below has something on his head, but I didn't have the heart to ask what it is. I thought maybe the other thing was a worm coming out of an apple, but I got yelled at when I asked her about it.
In other news, A has announced that she plans to "marry Father" when she grows up. I know that every little girl comes to this conclusion at some point, so I just nodded and told her that she's welcome to him. I know it's totally normal, but I also had visions of Woody Allen and Soon-Yi Previn flashing in my brain. Oy.
On Sunday, the kid was "helping" me make some egg salad for P. She was stirring it and asked me, "Do we need to add anything else?"
"No," I repled. "This is how Father likes it. You may as well know for when you marry him."