It takes time and dedication for anyone to master their chosen art. The ability to sit up on one's own is also a plus.

"Jessica, she can barely crawl," Sharon said into the phone. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry over."

"Mother, please, I know how you like to make up excuses for the disappointing way Michelle and Todd's children have turned out, but this is Bristol we're talking about."

Sharon sighed and went looking for her Valium. She had a feeling she might need it. "Honestly, dear, I don't know why you bought her that art set to begin with."

"Are you saying I shouldn't expose my precious little budding artist to the tools she may need to use in the future?"

"No, Jessica, I'm saying that you should think about letting Bristol just be a baby for a while. When I think about how fast you all grew up..."

"Mother, I'm sure whatever you're about to say is heartwarming, but let's focus. Ryan and I have been reading to her from the Art 101 Learning Guide nearly every night now, and I just don't understand why she's just not interested in putting pencil to paper! Do you think we should talk to her doctor about it? I'm worried there may be trouble with her eyes that's impeding her appreciation of the visual arts."

"I think you should pack up all those colored pencils, pastels, erasers, and whatever else is in there and give the thing to Olivia, Jake, or Dakody. That's what I think."

"It's a little late in the game for them, Mother. Besides, they don't need jumbo oil pastels and sketch pencils to make you more pictures of crude stick figures and m-shaped bird for your wall."

"Is that so? Do you remember the first time someone put a crayon into your hand, Jessica? You ate it."

"Ate it? Don't be absurd! I would never..."

"You gnawed the point right off a violet crayon before we caught you. Happened every time your father or I turned our backs to you. We had a heck of a time just teaching you how to write your own name because you kept thinking the pencil was food."

"Uh, well, obviously I was very young and..."

"You did it until you were six."

Blessed silence came from the telephone receiver for a long time. For a moment, Sharon thought she had finally taught her youngest daughter a lesson.

"So you're saying it might be best to put her dance or piano lessons instead?"

Sharon filled a glass of water and downed a pill. "I'm sorry, honey, but I have to let you go. I suddenly feel the need to lie down."

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