Every morning, I tidy up a little bit before sitting down with a cup of tea. Here's a piece of scrap paper that I have to share with you all. I don't have a scanner, so I will type this up, creative spelling and all. Looks like my eight-year-old daughter is absorbing the art of writing editorial letters:
My name is Daughter. It is a plesure to be teaching you this year. I look foraward to sucsess. Your desk s will always be where they are right now. You will never be able to see my body, head, shape, or size. Right now please work on page 3 of the papers. It tells you exatly what to doo. And rember, behave! I am watching every move you make. I hope you are looking forawd to the new school year too.
Well, there you go! My budding teacher. She's much tougher than I am.
Oh, I forgot to add that when my kids were little, they'd send rejection letters to each other when they were mad. It's funny what kids pick up when they live with writer-moms.