The other night I knocked on my daughter’s door to say good night. When I was granted permission to enter 1 I noticed she was setting up her easel.
“Whatcha doing?” I asked.
“Stuff,” was all she replied 2.
I shrugged, smiled, and said good night. The next morning I poked my head in to let her know I was going out to lead chapel, and saw an absolutely beautiful abstract painting on the canvas she’d set up the previous night.
Teenagers may be weird, but I’m glad to know one with the soul of an artist.