When I say "The Book" I hear a heavenly chorus of angels and a beam of light shines through the ceiling onto my keyboard. Conversely, when I say "The Deadline" I hear the flapping of vultures' wings and screeching, giving me the urge to tear out my hair in clumps and rend my clothing.
I think that this whole book thing is going to be a lot like having a baby without the stretchmarks. Like my mom says: If women could just go from conception to delivery and skip all the stuff in between, it'd be so much better. Not a bad idea, but I'd much prefer that we skip right up to the age when the kids can push the mower.
For reasons I hope are obvious, I can't share the stuff that will likely end up in "The Book." (Do you hear the angels? Listen....beautiful.) But I can show you the rejects I threw to the wayside that Conn found and embellished. I think his doodles improved them infinitely. He's a regular Dan Eldon. (God willing, my son will live a whole lot longer.)
I know what you're thinking, cute, even a little edgy, but come on. What about Judy Perez's kids? You know, Deb Silva's niece and nephew -- now that's a really talented family with some really talented kids. Nina can paint amazing portraits upon her first attempt and Ty can fold a perfect origami swan out of a piece of confetti.
True. But that doesn't change the fact that my kid is a genius with a Sharpie, ok? Did I mention that he can shove 17 Sour Starbursts in his mouth all at once? A doodler AND a performance artist.
Top that Ty.
See, Judy's not the only one who has borne prodigies. And I had them two at a time.