They’re Poets and They Know Its

It all started with a poem for a school project the 13 year old wrote:

A mind, however hard it tries,
Will always be thoughtful.
A mind is reasoned. A mind is considered,
A mind is not always heedful, however.
Don’t you believe that anybody is witting?
That anybody is unaware beyond belief?
Down, down, down into the darkness of consciousness,
Gently it goes – the incognizant, the unsuspecting, the unwitting.

I am perhaps being the standard trope of a proud parent… but holy shit did that thing blow me away. I can clearly see that my skill at poetry at 13 was much more akin to the Lenny Kravitz lyrics in “Fly Away” – “I wish that I could fly, up in the sky, just like a dragonfly“- you know, the literal stupidest string of words in the English language.

And so, these happened- like we’re freshmen at college in our first apartment:

The 11 blank tiles really confuse me though.

Now, I should say here that I am a clean fridge type person. While the fridge sometimes becomes a place for permission slips to be signed and artwork, I tend to move those to the sides so as to have a blank fridge face.

But now…

832 tiles seems about right

Ah but I wouldn’t trade it for the world though, because on the first night the girls spent hours with them (I am talking well above 3+).

A Saturday night well spent not doing the dishes

And we woke up to these gems:

love it.

Some favorites:

Ghost fingers might have diseases

Screw class; school blows

Push ups scare me

I am above gloating

My sisters are beautiful

poop; horrid smell

A car’s window has a tongue

I just love seeing their personalities and humor and irreverence. A good Amazon purchase fo’ sho’.

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