I truly believe that a child’s drawing is a reflection of their inner world, a creative expression of emotions and thoughts that may be difficult to articulate in other ways. So I was a little baffled when Little Boy brought home this:
Of course I am touched that he was thinking of me while drawing during his after school program, and as usual his artistic talent is pleasing, but let’s analyze what’s going on here. It’s an octopus, with long hair, crying and squirting green ink, with tiny fish in its mouth.
“Is that supposed to be me?” I asked Little Boy, after expressing proper appreciation.
He seemed confused. “Of course it is,” he said.
So when Little Boy imagines me as an animal, he thinks of a large multi-armed sea creature, covered with suction cups and with the power to cling furiously and suffocatingly to objects. Furthermore, I am simultaneously crying, eating, and spurting ink, which Little Boy knows is something that octopuses do to escape predators. (I like that he choose green, knowing it’s my favorite color.)
Okay, I’ll try not to read too much into this.
Also interesting is that he wrote “For Mom,” even though he still calls me “Mommy.” He’s realizing his peers no longer say “mommy and daddy.” The day he starts calling me “Mom” is the day I’ll embody a crying octopus.
