I was never much on poetry. When I was in 6th grade, we had to write poems. My teacher redlined my whole poem because I had not included enough adjectives. Apparently, there was a quota of adjectives equal to about 2 per noun, and my stats revealed approximately 1.7 adjectives per noun. She took the liberty of inserting adjectives for me, and told me to copy it over clean. I did, signing her name to the bottom instead of my own. It resulted in my first and only trip to the principal's office. Both my parents were called to be in attendance at this shameful act of rebellion. To my utter surprise, my father took my side.
My parents, while very nice people, are the first to think any idea I have is absurd. In fact, that sort of knee-jerk reaction pretty much cuts across the board with my family. Perhaps the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but in my case, I was thrown there from a passing car. Probably a VW Microbus. While I try very hard to love them, and ignore their total embarassment of me, it can be trying.
I am very busy writing these days, and not very busy illustrating, but this little sketch is fun. It reminds me a bit of the aforementioned 6th grade teacher. It's one of the reasons I homeschool.
One of many. *
