Now, I am not much of a painter. I will repeat: I suck. I don't have the patience, and I can't really lay the colors down in a way that makes sense, and I don't handle a brush deftly at all. What I can do is draw and fill in the blanks with paint, like a paint by numbers. But I like the idea of painting. It can be calm and meditative or very passionate and consuming, so I'll give it a try every now and then.
This is what I came up with:
My dad looked over my shoulder as I was painting, and said "Oh sweetie, that's great." And I said, "Daddy, turn around, I am painting the road behind us." He seemed relieved about that.