Sketches for JUSTIN — 10 in all — are due in less than a week. With all that's transpired over the holidays, I haven't done anything with this book until today. It's time to sketch.
The challenge is that my 4-year-old son is out of school until next week, so he is home with me. We try not to use the television as a babysitter our son although, sometimes, with our crazy schedules, Dora the Explorer makes for a great nanny. I started trying to put my ideas on paper, but as soon as I start making progress, my son goes on the attack. He loads his weapon, cocks the trigger, and starts pelting me with questions, request, demands and statements so fast, I can't seek refuge quick enough. Bomb number one: Dad, can you make my breakfast? Bomb number two: Dad, can you get me something to drink? Bomb number three: Dad, can we go outside to play with my scooter? Bomb number four: Dad, I need a band-aid on my owie (he fell off the scooter). Bomb number five: Dad, I'm firsty (like pronouncing thirsty as firsty will add a cuteness factor that I won't be able to resist). This is just a simple sampling of the ammunition he has been using for the past three hours, and I've promised myself, I ain't gonna get mad...I ain't gonna get mad...I ain't gonna get mad. But mine is a simple mind, not able to process all that he's lobbing at me so quickly. He's breaking me down. I’m about to crack. I’ve got to fight back, or surrender, ‘cause I gotta get these sketches done.
Dora the Explorer to the rescue! And when Dora's video runs out, there's always Sesame Street, Little Bill and Jay-Jay the Jet Plane. I've lost the last few battles, but I'm gonna win the war!