Drawing in the park when a kid makes her way up to me. She watches me draw for a bit, then climbs on top of the picnic table and plops down at my elbow. Here are my favorite from a long list of her deadpan deliverables:
Her: Well, you’re obviously an artist. Do you go to the MOMA?
Me: Yes. Is that your favorite museum?
Her: It’s not the Louvre, but it’ll do.
Me: My favorite museum is The Cloisters.
Her: I bet that would be a good ice cream flavor.
Her: Do you go to school?
Me: No. I work. Let me guess… you’re in the first grade?
Her: Yeah, but I’m small. Sometimes people guess that I’m in kindergarten. *balls fists* That really sticks in my craw.
Me: Do you use BrainPOP jr.?
Her: Of course. Everyone uses BrainPOP jr.
Me: That’s my job. I draw Annie and Moby.
Her: That’s not a job.
Me: Where are your parents?
Her: That’s my dad over there.
Me: Way over there?
Her: Yeah, I can tell that’s him. He has a really big nose.
Me: Do you have a favorite tree in this park?
Her: No. I have a favorite brick.
Me: Why do you like it?
Her: It’s quiet.
Her: That’s my school over there. (Points to the school next to the park)
Me: I have a friend who teaches there. You shouldn’t tell strangers where you go to school though. It’s not so safe.
Her: You told me where you worked.
Her: Look, if we’re going to keep talking you should draw that tree. I’ll put some apples on it. Hand me the red.Welcome to spring.