My mom sent the brostetters and I this picture last week:

It’s pretty much every horrible art thing we ever made in school for our Dad, that he has ACTUALLY KEPT IN HIS OFFICE FOR ALL OF THESE YEARS.  The collection includes a beaver doing a double split, an ‘ashtray’ for a man who has, to my knowledge, never smoked a thing in his life, not one but TWO blowfishes, a vase that Morrison aptly described as a ‘bag of lips,’ and what appears to be a torso of Dad but in blackface. I want to think that he kept these things because he loves us, and thinks that everything we do is great, but I think it’s more like: my children are now providing for themselves and working their way up in their assorted fields, but THESE ARE  A HILARIOUS PHYSICAL REMINDER OF HOW STUPID AND VASTLY UNTALENTED THEY WERE AS CHILDREN.