Painting lessons

We bought one birdhouse at the store and she painted it pink.  Daddy had this other one and swapped it on her once - she didn't seem to realize it wasn't hers -- and then he swapped it back.  She painted hers for a while, then said to us - 'but it had a black on it and a string, did you do it, you or you?'  And then she knew it was Daddy.  We thought she was just going to ignore it happened and not say anything at all...  Can't quite pull the wool over her eyes anymore... ha

Daddy said we could paint on this one more and let the pink one dry for tomorrow.
 She watches me paint a bird on this side of the house after we discussed stripes and dots on the roof.

 I watch while she paints her version of the bird on the opposite side.
Mark says it is the next Picasso giving lessons to the next next Picasso.  Ha.

My 'Really, you think so?' expression was hard to hide at this moment, I guess. 

But she wasn't doing a bad job, at all, working with confined space on her side and the brush was not a good one so making anything was pretty impressive.

Her attempt at making the bird (from memory, I will add, she did not look at it again), and putting a white eye on it in the middle.

Esme question tonight:  'Who is winter?  Sun or Moon.  You pick one.'  So, we had a lesson... which ended with her deciding that winter is when it gets cold and dark, and then cold and warm.  *work on that a bit more*