A glorious mess

by threegirlpileup

Let me set the scene.

It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon.  I’m upstairs with my mom hanging out and knitting.  The girls are downstairs painting.  I have been up and down several times, and all has seemed well.

Suddenly, Anna runs by me, towards the bathroom, stark naked (which she wasn’t before).

“Anna,” I ask, “where are your clothes?”

“Oh, Mom,” she calls from the bathroom, “I had to take them off because they were all painty.”

Uh-oh, I think.

I walk into the bathroom.  “Anna,” I said a little sternly, “when I go downstairs, am I going to find a big painty mess?”

“Oh, no,” she says.  “Only a very little one.  Well except on my painting.  My painting is a glorious mess!”

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A glorious mess, indeed.  And one that is so, so, Anna.

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