
Frankenstein with Flair — and Ponytails
It’s Alive! But Is It Art?
Fauna: Dad, remember when you asked us to create some science projects on the computer?
Me: Sure do. I wanted to impress my friend Jim.
Fauna: Well we’re finished.
Me: Really!? Awesome! I can’t wait to show off your stuff! What’d you make? A jet-propelled motorcycle? A house that floats on water?
Fauna: Not really. I wanted to give Harry Potter a different ending?
Me: What?
Fauna: Yeah. I don’t think Voldemort was sufficiently punished.
Me: Wasn’t he obliterated into a million pieces?
Fauna: Right. He got off easy. This is how I think Death would deal with him.
Me: That … that was something. We really should write Ms. Rowling.
Merryweather: My turn, Dad.
Me: OK, Merry — whatcha got? A robot dog? A phone-booth time machine?
Merry: I made a story about a boy and a girl who fall in love.
Me: But this is a science program.
Merry: Right. They’re both scientists.
Me: OK. I guess that’s what you call interpretive dancing. Not sure what to interpret exactly.
Merry: That’s what I was going for.
Flora: Dad, I know you wanted this to be part of our homeschooling, so I created my very own science teacher for my experiment.
Me: You did?
Flora: Yep. His name is Mr. Broccoli. I do his voice.
Me: Sounds interesting.
Flora: Here, he teaches a lesson to class.
Me: I’m afraid I didn’t catch all of that. Did he say something about french fries?
Flora: Yes. He teaches food science.
Me: I should’ve guessed.
Flora: Mostly he likes to play guitar and sing country music. He just teaches for the paycheck.
Me: Of course. Well, girls — I must say, you’ve done some very creative things here with interesting characters. And I can tell you enjoyed yourselves doing it, didn’t you?
*nodding heads*
Me: That’s most important. When you have fun creating something, people know. That’s what art is all about.
Merry: Do you think what we did was art?
Me: I think they’re masterpieces.
Fauna: Thanks, Dad!
Flora: Yeah — thanks, Dad! And just so you know, we are working on one more project especially for you.
Me: Oh, hon — that’s OK. Go on and keep doing what you enjoy.
Flora: Are you sure? We were going to have Mr. Broccoli shoot Voldemort out of a cannon.
Me: Make. It. Happen.

