The little boy dipped his fingers into the jar of strawberry jam, a smile tugging at his lips as he smeared the sticky jelly on his toast.
His mother promptly scolded him for forgetting his manners; she couldn't understand his fascination with painting, especially when he did it with food rather than the finger paint he'd received as a gift for his last birthday.
"Please, use the knife to spread your toast. How many times do I have to tell you?"
Johnny pouted as he grabbed the offending object. Adults were such a bore; he would show them one day.