Arms

Arms

My kids have been home sick almost constantly this spring. That might be a slight exaggeration, but it sure feels that way. I haven’t had time for The Anatomy of Melancholy or much drawing at all. But… I have been storing up a pretty incredible list of creepy-cute things that they say, the precious little goblins.

A few days ago I was doing the dishes, and my daughter, standing behind me, said: “Did you notice anything different about my arms today, Mom?” Just for a second, I was afraid to turn around because I was picturing something like this. (If you are concerned, no, her arms had not turned into brittle star starfish arms. Phew. I really do not know why my mind immediately went to grotesque sea creature arms. It’s been a strange week.)

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