The snot artist

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for the graphic nature of this post. If it's any comfort, I did refrain from writing the equally true post "the poop artist."

Let it be known across the land that Kate, just shy of two years old, is an artist. I'm not talking about stick figures or finger paints. I'm talking about edgy, alternative modern art of the most original kind.

Having dropped off my mother at the airport after her post-Christmas visit, I headed home with the girls, hoping they wouldn't fall asleep in the car, as that would ruin any chance at a long nap when we got home. It turns out I had nothing to worry about because both girls found something to occupy their time. Clara played the game where she looks for a specific color car, a game that I only need to marginally need to take part in.

Clara: "Where's a white car?" (probably after seeing a white car approaching)
Clara: "There's one! There's one!"
Clara: "Daddy! A white car!"
Me: "Oh yeah?"
Clara: "Yeah! OK, what next? Where's a red car?"
Clara: "There's one! There's one!"
Clara: "Daddy! A red car!"

Kate played along for the first mile or two, but then she got quiet and I gave up on the idea of keeping her awake all the way home. After a while, I looked back and saw not only was she still awake, she was tracing her finger along her window, causing wavy streaks and smears in a kind of pattern reminiscent of the Synesthesia school of art. My first thought - how naive I am - was that she was licking her finger to get her "paint." So I let her create her masterpiece while Clara looked in vain for an orange car.

And then it happened. I looked back at just the right (wrong?) time and saw her stick her finger in her nose, look at what she found, then apply it to the window. She even tilted her head a bit to the side the way artists do. "NOOOOO KATE!" I've been at this job too long to be squeamish about bodily fluids, but as I looked over her masterpiece I saw every degree of liquid and solid on that window and my stomach turned a little bit. I knew that if I just let this pass she'll be decorating the television, the oven, and the windows of her pre-school. She looked at me shyly, as if to say, "do you like my painting?" "Kate, we do not put our fingers in our nose. OK?" "OK daddy." We'll see how long that lasts.

So now I've added a new shirt to the STLHomeboy line of children's clothes: