I am working on a memorial art project as a tribute to G’s mom who passed away last year. I find him outside and tell him I need a hand. To which he begins a slow clap escalating to bravo and well done.
“No, I mean your ACTual hand. I need to paint your right hand red.”
G: “Can’t you use your own hand?”
Me: “It’s for your mom, it should be your hand.”
G: “I have a cut on my right hand.”
Me: “We can put liquid New Skin on it.” (which he lets me do)
G: “HOLY CRAP THAT BURNS!!! It’s got alcohol in it! …. SMELL THAT!”
It smells like alcohol.
(I know I shouldn’t be laughing but NOW he is gyrating around while swirling his right hand. When I ask him what he is doing he says;)
“I told you there was alcohol in it, my hand is drunk.”
Look what drunk hands can do!