Misinterprited

All worthy work is open to interpretations the author did not intend.
– Joss Whedon

It is time to shop for back-to-school supplies. Many parents will complain about the cost of the requested classroom essentials. Others will embrace the required purchases and, with an understanding that the teacher will end up spending a considerable amount of her own money, buy two of everything on the list so that there will be extra supplies for needy kids.

I personally love nothing more than loading up a shopping cart with paper, pencils and crayons. My children have a knack for creating easily-misinterpreted works of art. I just can’t wait to see what comes home in that back pack this year. Here is a collection of some of my favorites.

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This little sculpture is made with clay and an alphabet block of the letter “T.” I like to call this piece T-ed Off. My daughter intended for the man she created to say, by way of gesture, “You’re number one!,” but his cold stare, down-turned mouth and extended middle finger say to me, “Eat ‘number two!'”

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This is a snap shot of the first book report my daughter ever wrote. It is an essay I call Whore Dance. Whore Dance summarizes a book about some men who go to war with mice. Her spelling skills being what they were at age six, “war” is spelled w-h-o-r-e throughout the entire 2-page composition. According to the book report, the men stayed up all night doing a “whore dance,” and when the morning came, they were too worn out to fight. (I have not ruled out the possibility that she is some sort of prodigy and that she intended this story to be an allegory about the negative impact self-indulgence has on the “rat race.” Am I reaching?)

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And here, a submission by my son, we have the Not-So-Incredible Hulk. This was drawn during a stage when my little guy was obsessed with everyone’s favorite color. Sensitive to the fact that my favorite color was green, he often took care to draw me in this hue. At first glance, I thought this sad, saggy Hulk was suppose to be me.

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Amorous Robot at Twelve-o-clock. It’s always “time” as far as this robot is concerned. He stays geared up.

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I call this Jesus Rabbit. It was meant to be a dog, but to me it is a rabbit. A very self-sacrificing rabbit. Until I find some Catholic bunnies that can use it in their warren, I will keep it hanging in the kitchen.

Thanks for reading! I will see you on the back pack aisle.

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