the pieces of my life

I love my daughter to death. I know that there’s nothing in this world she can’t do. But, but, but… Right now she spends all her time, with a notebook and “pencil” (read: pens) in hand, scribbling. All day. All over the place. “I want to draw!” she says and she creates these pages of scribble. “How do you spell your name?” she asks me, Adam, and Doodles, and then she scribbles. “What do you want for lunch?” she asks, taking our order and then she scribbles. She’s left-handed, so she has that odd writing hunch as she scribbles. She can sit for a good hour scribbling. She fills notebooks up with these tiny little scribbles. Today we call her Pie. Tomorrow we’ll call her Unabomber. Be afraid. Be very afraid.