She’s a Dude
In the Husband’s pursuit of nurturing a young Banksy, Adam Neate or Damien Hirst (can you tell we’re a post-modernist family yet ?) the Munchkin has been encouraged to scrawl on many a medium, some of which I’m not too keen on. Under this category would fall my cream sofa, but that’s a whole other story.
The morning Sammy Duder opened her South London studio, we happened to be passing, each nursing quite serious hangovers. In thirty-seconds flat we were welcomed with open arms, a glass of bubbly placed hospitably in each our hands and the Munchkin aproned and ready to go. We were there for an hour and a half enjoying our hair of the dog, while nurturing our child’s creative development. This is the kind of parenting I like.
Sammy and her team are on hand to offer as much or as little advice as you wish. Sensing they had a young Jackson Pollack in their mists they carefully laid out co-ordinated colours and let the Munchkin get on with it.
The Husband of course had to remind me on a number of occasions that I’m perhaps not quite as artistically gifted as I’d have hoped. Steering me away from any attempts to make my own Christmas presents he reminded me of Christmas 1998. It was then that I discovered that painted gifts were a lot more appealing from the under 5’s than a daughter who would prefer to spend her money on booze and fags.
The result of our visit ? A week later we collected our shiny new butter dish and mugs. Proud isn’t the word. Of course, since then we’ve added to our collection - I’m planning on a dinner service.
