There's never any telling what goes through the mind of a seven-year-old. Especially an amateur paleontologist like my boy Ayden (pictured below). Today, he brought his journal home from school and I found an entry in it that would've made Shel Silverstine proud.
I wish I had 100 caterpillars.
I wish I had 100 caterpillars.I wish I had 100 ants.
I wish I had 100 snakes.
I wish I had 100 bugs.
But I wouldn't want 100 hats.
I'm pretty sure he didn't intend it to be a poem, but that's how I read it. Sometimes we create art without knowing it, and that, I think, is the heart of it all.
Keep 'em flyin', boppers...
I wish I had 100 snakes.
I wish I had 100 bugs.
But I wouldn't want 100 hats.
I'm pretty sure he didn't intend it to be a poem, but that's how I read it. Sometimes we create art without knowing it, and that, I think, is the heart of it all.
Keep 'em flyin', boppers...
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