For an hour and a half I sit on the floor holding a piece of shaped cardboard. I turn it round and round to show all side while holding a paper plate of paints. He holds the brush like he holds his pencils “wrong.” He pays attention to the cartoon at his lap and sporadically looks at the tip of the brush. Colors are scattered with no rhyme and reasons and brush strokes are seen without hesitation. He paints and paints and saps his little energy to make a Christmas present for his little sister.