Last week I paid a visit to my mom and pop. They are considering downsizing, so I had to go through quite a few boxes from my schoolhouse days.
I enjoyed spending time with my parents, particularly since it got me away from work for a few days. Work has been a little hectic lately, and I've been doing a lot of writing-- especially with collaborators. One of my collaborators doesn't appear to believe in such silly conventions as grammatical rules. And so I edit. And edit. And edit.
I decided I wasn't going to work when I visited my parents. As I picked through a box labeled "Unreaction--elementary school", I came upon a poem my ten-year-old self had written to my mother. I frowned, noting a grammatical error.
Sigh. I guess I just can't help playing the editor... even if the writer is myself. Twenty years ago.
