He said what!?!?

I've really been into creating pottery. The Art Center on base has a fabulous studio and kiln. It's turned into my escape. I could sit for hours and sculpt and paint (I can't actually do this often because I'm usually not afforded the time, but after this week's flooding and extra days off of school and home with the boys, hubby booted me out of the house to catch a breather.)

I found out on one rainy day that my boys also enjoy going and "playing with clay." I'm fine with it, because they can be creative and messy all at the same time and I don't have to clean up clay all over my house.

In the beginning, I was a little concerned about my older son's work. It all had a sort of phalic appearance. He said they were cannons, but I think he was working out some Freudian issue. However, he is extremely adamant that they are not penises, so if you see any of his artwork when visiting Grandma's house, please don't say anything. And Grandma, he will expect to see his artwork proudly displayed when he comes to visit...and don't think of breaking it, cause he'll make another one....BIGGER and better.

And then there is my younger son. He also enjoyed sculpting. More than sculpting, he enjoyed socializing with the two young ladies who were there hand throwing on the wheel. He quickly made friends with them, and shared his mosquito pool that he was working on. (No, I didn't realize mosquitos enjoy swimming, either). When I bumped into the ladies today, sans children, the one told me that my younger son said something that totally cracked her up. This cannot be good, I thought. As he was getting off one of the stools in the workroom, he groaned as he was sliding down. She asked him if he was ok. To which he responded, "I squished my tenders." Then, just to clarify in case she was not aware of what "tenders" were, he matter-of-factly added, "Those are my balls."

Who knew the pottery room could be such a wonderful place for entertainment? I'm going back tomorrow!