About a year or so ago, William found one of my journals that I write poetry in. It's illustrated with pencil drawings or pen & ink, little doodles I add to brighten it up. He asked for a journal.
By chance I had an orange one with a green, purple and blue snail on it. I gave it to him. Last night I was looking through some of their school supplies and books for a kids' book that's got fractions and stuff in it. And I found the "Snail" journal.
On the front William had written "The Evil Thing" Book Two by W. T. Hardin. Ilistrated by William.
Inside are bits and pieces of sentences with drawings like:
"The evil roller coster goes round." ( and a drawing of cirlces and turns, with a stick person screaming.)
"Do not read out loud. The evil will come alive." (Red crayon scribles around the words)
"The evil thing is a grewsome beast." (A circle with fangs staring off the page)
And so go the little kid things he says...about "the grewsome beast and it's vicktims."
"Don't cri out loud. The evil thing is not real."
But at odd places he has written some funny things like "I see you like to read." and "Feel free to Browse."
It's as if he knows I'll sneak a peep at his words, blatantly disregarding the very first page: "Do not read or sufer the conseconsequences (marked out--then rewritten) consequenes."
I wish that kids his age could see the humor in him, the wit that he isn't even aware of. This type of humor is a gift and I'm so glad he's been blessed with it.
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