Sawyer is a crafty child. Which, as you know, is very unfortunate for him seeing as his mother is THE. MOST. UNcrafty person on God's green earth. (I will go to my grave asserting that play doh is of the devil.)
But, in spite of Sawyer's lack of "crafty parental influence", he enjoys doing what he can with what he's given which, I readily admit, is pretty much next to nothing. However, in a weak and desperate moment this school year, I bought some Sculpey clay. It was a school project thing and it makes play doh look heaven sent, let me tell ya!
For some reason, still unknown to me, I kept that darn stuff. And, not surprisingly, Sawyer knew exactly where it was. Yes, this is the same kid who regularly leaves one shoe at school and often grabs a tie from the school lost and found so he isn't penalized for his lack of uniform on chapel days. But he sure doesn't forget where that awful Sculpey clay lives.
And so last night, after declaring his boredom almost non-stop all day, Sawyer decided he was going to sculpt a starfish. (Don't ask me.) The starfish idea lost momentum quickly when it didn't turn out the way he'd hoped, and he moved on to sculpt a daisy, which he then presented to me with the disclaimer "It's not very good mom but here you go." I accepted it willingly, scraped that dang clay off the table with a power chisel, tossed Sawyer the turpentine so he could get his fingers unstuck, and proudly plastered that daisy on the fridge door, where it hangs this very moment.
Once the clean up was complete, Sawyer sighed loudly and grabbed a simple yet lovely piece of notebook paper and a pencil. As he got settled at the table next to me, he said wistfully
"I think I'll just draw something now, mom. I'm much better at 2D than 3D."