I am the Mother of Invention

Henry loves to invent things. I'll say, "Man, I hate having to brush your crazy long hair!" and he'll ask, "Should I invent something that would keep my hair brushed so you don't have to do it?" And then he'll be off with his popsicle sticks, bits of ribbon and other stuff he's collected and saved (and by saved I mean shoved) in his art dresser.

Today I went inside the house ahead of Henry and heard a loud roar like a jet flying overhead. When he came in he told me it was a helicopter, but that "it flew by so suddenly I didn't have time to turn on my camera" -- he has one in his head, you know -- "but I think I'll make something that will automatically record anything flying overhead."

Here is the camera he built from paper, tape and a toilet paper roll:


In his left hand are drawings of all the possible objects the camera could record: helicopter, airplane, blimp or zeppelin.


See what I mean about the hair? I'm still waiting for that invention.

What's cool is that he knows these things don't really work, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to create and invent. In Henry's imaginary world anything can happen. The mix of creativity, engineering and art just astound me, and it almost makes the mess (did I mention he never wants to throw out any of his creations?) worth it.

Almost.