When I left him, my son was gleefully painting with a duck. The duck had, in the early stages, seemed a bit jittery, but once it had its feathers smoothed, the results were quite amusing.
Now, lest we invite less-than- civil comment from the Animal Rights lobby, I should perhaps explain. No ducks were harmed in the making of this painting. Not even made vaguely uncomfortable, in spite of the fact that he was using a live mallard as a paintbrush and it was, at one point, rather jittery. .
On second thoughts, that probably doesn’t help much.
You see, the thing is, my son is tired and it is very cold outside. Even more so when you are confined to an electric wheelchair in which you sit completely still and let the motor get warm while you freeze. So he’s hibernating for a bit and casting around for something…
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