His wife better own a chicken farmThis morning I've been painting (and painting and painting). My arms are noodles as I type, that's how tired they are. Around noon my 8 year old came in and said, "You're still painting?"
"Yes,"I said, "and I'm getting tired." I'm a results girl, after all. Instant gratification, y'know? Tedious edge-painting be hanged.
"Don't you like to paint?" he asked.
"Yes," I admitted. "Just not for a really long time."
"I like doing things I like for a really long time," he said. "Like, I like to eat chicken for a really long time!"