Last night was a triumph!

Kevin and I took the kids out for dinner to celebrate graduation. First, they ate using their utensils and didn’t burp loudly, drop food all over the floor or complain about having to wait.

Well, they are no longer toddlers, so I guess that’s all a given… but I’ll take my little triumphs where I can get ‘em.

But the clincher was, for me, a heated discussion about modern art.

Peter said, “I hate modern art! It’s crazy–why would anyone pay a gazillion dollars for a line drawn on a canvas!”

Greta said, “But what is art anyway?”

Svenja said, “Where’s the ketchup?” (She’s a work in progress.)

I tried to explain what art is. We all discussed Warhol’s can of soup and Damian Hurst’s pig in formaldehyde. Kevin mentioned the sculpture of the children with phallic noses that we all saw in in the Saatchi Gallery in London. Okay, sure, that took us a bit by surprise–we’re walking along quite happily and BAM! Ring around the rosie with big penises hanging off little girls’ faces… Modern art definitely pushes the envelope. Sometimes it’s disgusting, or boring or seems meaningless. But it almost always makes you think and often, it sticks with you in unexpected ways.

I was happy yesterday. Art! Food! Discussion! That’s life!