Cave Painting, Among Other Things...

I have cave children... Well, not really. Although sometimes I think that I literally DO have knuckle-dragging cave children, particularly given their tendency toward public nudity and prominent (and, *GASP* proud) displays of flatulence which produce hysterical laughter from them and horrified looks from me.

They take after their father. Well, at least in the area of flatulence. And that's all I have to say about that. (Let's hope he doesn't read this! Ha! Love you, honey. :O)

ANYWAY.

I am writing this because I finally got around to taking some photos of the cave-paintings we did the other day. They turned out super-cute (at least, I think so), and we "made" our own paint by crushing rocks and dirt and mixing them with some water and paint, and used sticks and our fingers to paint with. We used crumpled paper bags to simulate uneven cave walls.

KayKay's cave painting

The girls both really got into it, although I think the Ladybug was just taken with the fact that she could make a mess and I wouldn't care. Her paintings are supposed to be Sid and Manny from the movie, Ice Age, but she refused to put legs on her blobs, so they're just brownish blobs. *Sigh*

The Ladybug's blobs a la Ice Age

KayKay had more concrete ideas about what she wanted to paint, and although she wasn't satisfied, I thought hers was quite nice. Now, they want to "live like cave people." This is mostly KayKay's idea, although the Ladybug chimes in with her agreement every time it's brought up. It involves turning off the electricity for a week and digging holes to use for toilets.

Close-up of KayKay's mammoth and 5-legged antelope

I have firmly nixed this idea, though, as I am a huge fan of indoor plumbing and furthermore I REALLY don't think our (VERY nice and VERY close) neighbors would appreciate the view of my big white rear which they would ASSUREDLY get if I were forced to dig a hole in our "yard" and use it. NO THANK YOU. Besides the fact that I rather like being able to see after dark and cook on something other than an open fire.

My version of cave-painting. Don't you love the stumpy legs?

As a child, I used to believe that I was born in the wrong century and should have been born in the 18th or 19th centuries... Seriously. I was firmly convinced that God had placed me in the wrong century. Oh, but NO LONGER. Are you kidding? Life as a courtier was equally as dangerous and unsanitary as life on the prairie (the two places I most often dreamt of living). Yeah. I mean, come on? Forty-two layers of dress and that just got you to the "underskirt." Please. I love me some jeans and crocs, and that wonderful thing we call hot running water, and flushable toilets, and who could live without hand-sanitizer, stoves, and refrigerators??? Not moi.

Oh, but KayKay is fixated on this idea. She has told practically everyone we've met about it. *Sigh* I may have to ship her off to her grandparents' to live this one out. Or convince her that she'll catch some hideous disease if she pees outside too many times in a row (no, for right or wrong, I am NOT above occasionally lying to my children in order to "help" them give up an idea that would otherwise make my life miserable :O)... Or SOMETHING. Maybe I can take them camping instead. Anything to not have to dig a hole to relieve myself.