Finger paints

"What about now?" Asked little B. "Can we do finger paints now?"

Simone sighed, looking up from the advertisement she was putting together. It would be done in short order but she knew that she did not have time to deal with finger paints just then. "Little B, no. We cannot do finger paints this morning. However I will take them out, put the paints and the paper on your table and when you come home from school,we will finger paint. Okay?"

She thought, "Blast that Mister Maker!" (Mister Maker is the host of a kids' show about arts and crafts, one of little B's faves) but smiled inwardly at her son's determination.

When the school bus dropped him after school, little B turned to his driver and told her something she couldn't decipher. Simone leaned in as he repeated himself and beamed. "He says he's doing finger paints when he gets home," she interpreted.

"Oh! You get to do finger paints tonight!" Said K, the bus driver.

"Not tonight," protested little B. "Now!"

Simone chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough."

The jar of green paint opened, little B stuck his hand in gleefully. Then withdrew it with a look of horror: he WANTED to finger paint but had never finger painted before. Simone explained that it was slimy and kind of squishy and showed the boy how to get some basic designs done. Before long, he had three large sheets covered in colourful designs. They look very pretty but... there's no room left on the counter for cooking in the kitchen as the paint is still drying.