Scribble

You’d think the smaller the hand that holds me, the more pleasant my journey in life would be.

Not so.

I live in a kindergarten classroom, which makes me a #2 right out of the pack. The sharpening process, which involves a death grip around my mid-section and a series of violent plunges into the meat grinder of the lead species, does little to boost my self esteem.

And the scribbling... bless it! It’s neverending around these parts! Those little illiterate, color-outside-the-lines miscreants will see your panic attack in the meat grinder and raise you a heapin’ helping of cardiac arrest as they choke you and make you sprint back and forth across the page.

Sigh... at least it’s the weekend...