This weekend, I attempted to give my 8-year-old granddaughter some painting lessons.

She had watched me as I painted a few pictures of food that my daughter in Maine wanted to frame and hang on her new kitchen.

Now, let me start by saying that I am no Rembrandt. And nobody in their right mind would have ever asked me to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Well, unless there was a Pope Cooter the 3rd and then he probably would have wanted me to include lot more trucker hats.

I am not a great painter but I can paint a turtle and it looks just like… well, a soccer ball. But I was willing to try and pass on my questionable artistic skills to the offspring of my offspring.

She wanted to paint some sushi- her favorite food- so I got a picture from Google which I used to draw the image on a piece of paper. She would use this as a guide.

Simple. Easy. Not so fast.

I set out a newspaper, put the drawing on top, and gave her a variety of brushes and paints. Then I shared the basic instructions.

– Always wash out your brushes in the cup of water before starting another color.

– Paint on the paper- not on yourself, not on me, not on the dog.

– Make sure you wash out your brushes in the water and not my glass of tea.

So, off she went.

The chopsticks in the picture were brown. She asked me if she could paint them yellow, which is her favorite color.

Sure, I said. I believe in artistic expression. So, I squeezed a little glob of yellow on the palette. She then said she changed her mind, so I put a little glob of brown on the palette.

She dabbed her brush in the paint and promptly painted a long line down my arm. (Rule #2)

Of course, she thought that was hilarious. Well, at least it wasn’t the dog.

She painted the chopsticks and said she was ready to paint the yellow on the sushi. I told her to clean out her brush, and you guessed it, she stuck it in my tea. (Rule #3)

Again, she thought this was hilarious. I wondered if she was doing it on purpose.

She went through a few more colors and her painting was starting to look like sushi. I took a swallow of my tea before I could stop myself. Maybe a little acrylic won’t kill me. At least it was brown.

When she finished, I told her how great it was and grabbed the paper.

She pulled it back and said she wasn’t finished.

“I need to decorate it.”

I was supposed to be teaching, so I told her that the sign of a great painting wasn’t just what you put in but also what you left out.

She nodded and paused a moment – maybe she was listening to me. Nope. She got a big glop of yellow on her brush and stated painting stars all around the sushi.

Okay, sushi in space. Very unique.

When she finished the stars, I attempted to take the paper away. Again, she pulled it back down.

Near the bottom, she started painting some blue galaxies- Vincent van Gogh style. They looked like the number six. Three of them.

666.

I started to get a little scared.

Then she asked me how to draw a pentagram. Holy crap is my granddaughter Damien?

She said it was a star with six points. Oh, a Jewish star, not a pentagram.

I was relieved. I had no idea how I would explain to her parents why I had to drive a stake through her heart.

Finally, the masterpiece was finished. No goat horns or pictures of Alister Crowley.

She took her picture home and proudly showed it to her parents.

As for me, I sat at the table and ordered some Holy Water on Amazon.