The Art Fair
"Mommy," Angelica said, "how do you make green?"
"Blue and yellow."
"Thank you!"
Charlotte smiled. "Those edible washable paints Stu made are a god-send, Chas. Angelica can paint all she wants and I don't have to worry about messes." She looked down at the book of wallpaper samples. "So these are the ones you like?"
"Yeah. I want something traditional."
"Oh, I like this wood-panel one…"
Meanwhile, in the living room, Tommy and Chuckie looked up from their toys as Angelica walked by the playpen. "Why are you dressed like that, Angelica?"
"I'm a painter, silly!" she said, holding out her smock. "This is how painters dress!"
"I like to paint," Tommy declared. "One time my mommy got me a big sheet of paper and I rubbed my hands all overs it!"
"That isn't painting, that's just making a mess."
"Well, uh, can we paint with you?"
"Hmm… I'd say you could… but painting is for big kids."
"We're big!" Chuckie exclaimed.
"Then why are you in the dinky baby pen?" Angelica asked. "They only put little babies who are too young and small to do fun things in playpens… because you can't be trusted with anything."
"We can too be trusteded!" Tommy declared.
"Nope," Angelica said. "You're just a dinky little baby."
"So what if I'm a baby?" Tommy said, getting annoyed. "Babies can do lots of stuff! Like, uh, crawl… and drink a whole bottle… and stack blocks…"
"That's just baby stuff." Angelica leaned in. "They'll never let you do fun big kid things."
"Well… well that's not fair!"
Angelica shrugged. "Not my fault. You're the one always declaring how great it is to be a baby! That must mean you love only doing dinky baby things. Like… sitting around in your pen… and playing with your boring baby toys… messing your baby diaper… and never getting to do fun… face it Tommy, you'll never get to do the REAL fun stuff."
"That's not true, Angelica!" Tommy declared. "You're… you're fibbing!"
Chuckie gasped.
"Then ask my mommy to let you paint. But you have to do it like a big kid, not a dinky baby. I'll be in my room waiting!"
And with that she walked off.
Tommy stewed in anger. "Ooooo! I'll show her!"
"But how, Tommy," Chuckie asked. "She's right… we're trapped in this playpen! And its even taller than the one at your house!"
"We'll get my Aunt to let us out!" Tommy declared. And with that he looked into the kitchen and opened his mouth to ask to paint.
"Blaba ba!"
"Aw, what is it Tommy?" Charlotte asked, seeing the baby standing up in his playpen.
"Ba! Bla!"
"You want to sit with me while I go over some wallpaper with Mr. Finster?" she asked.
Tommy tried to tell her no but his aunt didn't understand.
And when he went home that night, having never got to paint… he swore he could hear Angelica laughing.