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By Jerry Zezima

When I was in school, I was so bad in art that if I became a painter, I would starve to death because I couldn’t even draw a good salary.

But my grandchildren are in school and they are so good in art that their works deserve to be in the Louvre Museum in Paris, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.

Instead, they are in the Zezima Museum of Art and Snacks on Long Island, New York. It is an admittedly modest space devoted to the world’s finest paintings, drawings and illustrations, all done with brushes, crayons and markers, all hanging on office, bedroom and family room walls, as well as a refrigerator door, and all created by five talented artists ranging in age from 10 to 3.

These wunderkinds could, in my humble opinion, put Vincent van Gogh to shame, not just because each has an eye for beauty and a nose for trends, but because they all have both their ears.

I acknowledge that I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like. It’s the reason I have established Zezima’s Two Rules of Modern Art.

Rule No. 1: If you see an artwork titled “Spring Butterfly,” but it looks more like the grille of a ’57 Chevy, don’t buy it.

Rule No. 2: If an artist has been working on a piece for months and, when he’s finally finished, calls it “Untitled,” it means even he doesn’t know what it is. Don’t buy that one, either.

If my grandchildren’s artwork were for sale, I would urge you to buy it, even though it is priceless and its estimated value is well beyond the ability of even the richest collectors to afford.

Besides, the kids would have to report their income to the IRS (Infantile Revenue Service) and they’d be legally obligated to pay more in taxes than they have in their piggy banks.

That is why I am humbled and gratified that all five of my grandchildren have recently made pictures just for me.

One, done by my 10-year-old granddaughter, is a 9-by-12-inch masterpiece, ink on cardboard, its deep hues of blue, green and yellow enhancing a playful drawing of her backyard, with a swing set and a slide meticulously done in black against an azure sky with a bright golden sun containing, in her distinctive handwriting, the beautiful words “to Poppie.”

I couldn’t be happier if I received a Monet or a Manet, which would be worth a lot of Money.

This magnificent piece, which could pair with van Gogh’s “Starry Night,” should be called “Sunny Day.”

There’s also a portrait of yours truly, with a mustache and a wide smile, which was gifted to me by the aforementioned artist for my latest birthday. It features balloons with my age on them. The inscription reads: “69 years of being funny.” Sorry, da Vinci, but “The Mona Lisa” has nothing on “The Mirthful Poppie.”

Another work, done by the artist’s 6-year-old sister, is titled “Wonder.” This pen-and-ink drawing lives up to its name, its deceptively simple lines showing an awestruck, long-haired girl, surrounded by stars, standing outside a house with another girl, smiling, in the doorway.

Imagine the price it would fetch in an auction at Christie’s!

The youngest three grandchildren, a 6-year-old boy and his 3-year-old twin siblings, a girl and a boy, are major talents in their own right and have gifted me with pieces done in crayon and felt-tipped marker. Some, from the twins, are even enhanced with colorful stickers, a bold statement that says, well, something.

Maybe that’s why they are untitled. Still, they are beautiful, especially the series of floating hearts that express the 6-year-old’s feelings for me and mine, of course, for him.

In fact, I (heart) all five of my grandchildren, who also work in watercolors that sometimes spill onto the kitchen table. But that is a small price to pay for what critics would call true art.

I should take lessons from the kids. As the creator of “Wonder” told me recently, when I attempted a drawing of my own, “You really need to practice, Poppie.”

Someday, one of my pieces will be good enough to hang in the Zezima Museum. I just hope the little artists will let me borrow their crayons.

— Jerry Zezima 

Jerry Zezima writes a humor column for Tribune News Service, which distributes it to newspapers nationwide and abroad. He is also the author of six books, Leave It to Boomer, The Empty Nest Chronicles, Grandfather Knows Best, Nini and Poppie’s Excellent Adventures, Every Day Is Saturday and One for the Ageless, all of which are “crimes against literature.” He has won seven awards from the National Society of Newspaper Columnists for his humorous writing.