Big blue eyes and a blond head (blond is a really odd-looking word if you stare at it for too long… just… FYI.) were turned upward towards the set of eyes that matched her own.
“Well, Mommy,” the shorter version of the two explained, “I am going to be an artister.”
“You’re going to be an artister, eh? And will you make lots of art as an artister?” Both sets of blue eyes sparkled at each other.
“Yes. And I will live in the mountains, far away. By myself.”
“Yes… but you can come an’ visit me.”
“Oh good. I might miss my little girl very much.”
“I won’t miss you too bad, but you can come make dinner for me.”
“Aw, thanks sweetheart.”
…And so the artister was born.