My big sister Lexi is fun.
She’s 11-years old, and mostly cool.
One of the best non-lame things about her is that she likes art projects.
It’s OK that some of her projects are about dresses and Barbies and stuff—please note: NON-truck projects are kinda lame. But it’s extra fun when her creativity combines with stuff that’s actually interesting and that I’m good at, like running and trucks and letters and numbers.
One time when we were outside playing she got some sidewalk chalk and decorated the squares on our blue-stone walkway. She decorated every square and rectangle with different kinds of letters. I can read them but I don’t know how to write all of them yet—block, cursive, and other fancy designs.
I had to edit her work, of course.
I did it with my feet by running and hopping on each letter and playing a game that I made up.
I only found one mistake: The big block letter A at the beginning was clearly a V. She kept saying it was an A, but I’ve seen Sesame Street’s Alphabet Jungle enough to know that Elmo and his team would not agree with her. And I got to agree with the experts, too.
So I ran and hopped all the way down to Z, then booked it back to where A should have been and told her it was a V. She kept trying to tell me it was an A. No dice.
I give her a 99% on her awesome sidewalk alpha-art project, and 100% on loving me with her art.
Next time, we should do numbers.
