My son had a school project to do - something about "The History of Me." He was to compile a bunch of pictures from each year of his life, and then write a sentence or two about them.
Parents had an assignment, too. They had to write a few special things that happened during each year. This had to be completed on a worksheet.
Okay, fine, so the teacher gave me homework. Not that I had time to do this, but I managed to squeeze it in. I turned in my homework and patted myself on the back.
Today, that paper came home in my son's homework folder.
"Bubba," I said. "Do you still need this?"
"Yeah, Mama," he said. "The teacher says you need to do it again."
"She says it's sloppy, and I can't read it. Plus you need to use complete sentences."
So, ladies and gentleman, here I am, the writer who just failed second grade penmanship and English. Is that pathetic, or what?