|I couldn't have been more than 5 here. Look at that sass.|
This little project was discovered years later. Don't ask me why my parents were looking underneath my desk drawers, but they were. And under the center drawer, they found my dirty little secrets scrawled in brown crayon. They also found a note on the inside of the drawer that said "This was Kim Lareau desk." I couldn't fit the apostrophe and S on my name, because I was trying to write this in the upper right corner of the desk. This particular note was written in a nice teal color. This little tag was done because I had it in my head that someone would discover that note decades later, and it would make a great story for them. Seriously, that's what was going through my head more than 20 years ago. I'm sure I was reprimanded and flogged accordingly for defacing the family heirloom.
If there's any moral to this anecdote, I'm certain I don't know what it is. It probably has something to do with explaining to your kids that if they want to be remembered, the best way is probably not through obscene words scrawled in a desk with a crayon - even if it is impressive that a 3 year old is dropping F-bombs in writing and mastering that tricky "tch" spelling.
|"Hell" looks like hell, but the others look pretty good.|