The way Paul and I watch TV is this: We will turn on the TV, he will boot up the laptop and read about baseball, and I will knit, darn socks, or draw. It’s multiple levels of leisure in one, plus it keeps me from biting all of my cuticles off while I watch Lost.

Last night, Paul was anxious to get some sleep because he had to get up extra early this morning. However, I was busy trying to draw a crow in my sketch book and didn’t want to have to say goodnight. In an effort to detain Paul, I squinted at him, put my pencil to the paper, and began to draw his portrait. Without looking down at the page, I created this masterpiece in just about 20 seconds:

This doesn’t really capture Paul’s good looks. In real life, he looks more like a person and less like a mylar balloon in the later stages of the deflation process. But my original plan, Operation Stay Up Later worked, and soon Paul had cranked out this no-look likeness of me:

I socked him in the arm and asked him why on earth he’d decided to give me a giant Friar Tuck bald spot.  In retrospect, I think I should have asked him why I appear to have certain masculine qualities in the lower part of the picture. But I got him back with this:

I assure you, Paul can see quite well despite his tiny, tiny pig eyes and ill-fitting glasses. And, in case you were wondering, that’s supposed to be an ear on his face, not a tumor.

No sooner had he felt the sting of my artistic ability then he was onto his retaliation:

I may not be a bald man in this portrait, but it appears I have an antenna. I asked him what those two dots were on my face. “Those are your dimples,” he said, as though I were the dumbest person in the world. Then what are those horizontal lines above my mouth? “Those are the other parts of your smile.” Oh. Okay, Paul. He also pointed out that if this were me, I’d have to be rushed to the hospital to seek treatment for a severe retinal detachment. True, but I think the main concern is my whole entire head seems to be disconnected from my body.

I decided to wow Paul with one more of my creations:

Here is what happens when your head is filled with helium, but your face is made of lead. Also, Paul’s body seems to be doing a little jig down there underneath the chaos.

I think I had a few more portraits in me, but I didn’t want to offend Paul further, so I gave in and went to bed.

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