Art is a Tart

So Girl had a blast of culture at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art the other week (for ‘culture’, read ‘coffee and millionaire shortbread after a cursory glance at the fat tourist sculptures’). The speed at which the deceptively elderly-looking security guard scurried through at the sound of my camera shutter suggested photography was discouraged but I managed to sneak a snap of the most enormous new-born I’ve clapped eyes on since the day I witnessed a caesarean section performed on a dairy cow (long story). Sadly, I’ve realised it’s probably not acceptable to post unauthorised photographs of someone’s artwork, even with a small child looking disconcerted in front of it, but I’d seriously recommend any locals reading take a trip to the gallery in the near future in the hope of catching this massive creature.  At around thirty feet long and a good five feet high, it’s a corker. And whereas both of my children popped out looking like shiny cherubs, the sheer size of this makes it pretty unpleasant to look at.

Girl herself was definitely a tad nonplussed at the gargantuan gurgler but it seemed to awaken her inner artist, as she displayed in extravagant fashion the following week using the medium of Crayola on sitting room wall.

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So much for the idea of introducing her to a bit of culture. I’ll stick on The Smurfs next time.

p.s. A hairdryer, and a damp cloth, in case you were wondering.

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