Friday, March 3, 2017
Yesterday, in the process of looking for something else, my wife found a sheaf of 8.5 x 11 pages stapled in one corner. It was a book made by one of our children, probably about the age of one. We don't know who made it; it wasn't signed. Each page bore some sort of halfhearted scribble with a ballpoint pen. At first I was like "aw, our kids' art!" But then I remembered that(a)" we don't know who made it and (b) more importantly, they both told us we needed to get rid of junk, so they won't have to do it later (that's not exactly how they phrased it). So we recycled it.