My own three kids have taken up the artist’s pencil tracks. It is probably true that no one ever had a bad habit that didn’t get passed on to their children. Drawing too much is my back-clinging monkey. I ignore other things I am supposed to do, have to do, even will die if I don’t do in order to keep on drawing. My two arthritic claw hands have been worked into pretzel knots by the incessant urge to draw. But not everything they got from me in the drawing habit is totally bad.
The Princess actually uses colored pencil to do her art.
Oldest son Dorin (his name in my fiction) has caught the dungeon and dragony bug from me and likes to conjure imaginary monsters.
I was not able to secure a Henry picture for this post, but he does it too. He has won school art class awards for his work and one of his pieces still hangs in his former middle school.
So, there you have it. I have passed on the gene that causes this craziness. And there is no cure but to draw endlessly.