J.J.: Will you color with me?
Me: Sure, but I’m not very creative. You’re a better colorer than me.
J.J.: Did you not color a lot when you were little? Is that why you’re not very good at it?
Me: No, I didn’t.
J.J.: That’s why I’m better than you.
Me: It’s true.
J.J.: That’s different. Grownups are supposed to be better than kids at drawing.
Me: That’s true, too. I got in trouble in preschool because I didn’t color between the lines. They said, “Katie, stay inside the lines!”
J.J.: Haha! Katie, stay inside the lines!
Me: It happened. There, I’m done. What do you think of my giraffe?
J.J.: Like you said, not very creative.
Me: Thank you. Maybe I should stick to writing. This giraffe looks like a Morey. I think I’ll write him a story.
This is the story
He lived in a zoo
Without a clue
That he was a Giraffe
He thought he was a moose
Who was in love with a goose
And together they’d have a calf.
Then one day he saw
(and stood staring in awe)
At a handsome, long-necked Giraffe
He walked away
Because what could he say?
To such a beautiful reflection in the glass.
J.J.: I don’t get it.
Me: Oh well. Maybe I shouldn’t write, either.
J.J.: Are you going to color another one?
Me: Sure. Got another giraffe?
J.J.: No, but here’s a wolf.
Me: Why does this wolf have a head shaped like a heart?
J.J.: I don’t know.
Me: We should send it to your grandma.
J.J.: Yeah! It’ll probably scare her.
Me: Or she’ll think you love her because you’re sending her a wolf with a heart-shaped head.
J.J.: Yeah. Good idea, Katherine. Good idea.