Friday, April 3, 2015

Muscles

A couple evenings ago, Sharpshooter came downstairs, dressed from the waist down.

"Mom, look at me. Is my right arm bigger than the left?"

"Yes," I said, "I think that's common."

"I've got to stop using my right arm!"

By this morning, he was frustrated. He kept forgetting, and using his dominant hand.

"Maybe I should tie my arm behind my back."

I suggested that he pretend his arm was tied behind his back, but I knew that was a dumb suggestion. An hour later I found him writing on his hand with a Sharpie.


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