We're trying to revive our not-used-since-high-school drawing skills, because the kids are all about drawing. I can make a good likeness, but only of things I'm actually looking at, and only as long as they don't move--blind contour drawing is a cool trick with major limitations, and it's the only visual arts trick I've got. Dan can draw from imagination, but his results are very uneven. Despite the purchase and skimming of a bunch of books on drawing technique, we both still kind of suck at it.
"I have weird little trapezoid feet," I concede, "but..."
"Okay," says Dan. "Turn the paper over."
A non-aerodynamic dragon smiles cheerily down at a bald pikeman whose hat is the slimmest idea of a hat. Behind the pikeman, a house burns. Great gouts of flame look goutsy and flamey, but the house might really be a garden shed. It's hard to tell. A vaguely equine quadruped gets the only label in the scene. Dog, says Dan's handwriting, and a squiggly little arrow points to a creature with a saddle, and maybe a mane, but no tail to speak of.
"If your Don Quixote tries to tilt against the dragon, that riding dog is toast," I say.
"I'm not sure why it doesn't look all the way like a horse," says Dan. "I did start out aiming for a horse."
"It's about the right size to be an eohippus," I suggest.
"Well," says Dan, pleased, "the war-eohippus is saddled and ready."
"The dragon seems to be chuckling at it."
"Then I'll just have to call it a dire eohippus."
I married the right man.