Gat W#ll Soxn!

After learning her friend had broken his arm, my five-year-old daughter insisted on drawing him a picture. She sat at the table for an hour, coloring carefully, then handed me a piece of paper. “It’s very pretty,” I said. “I bet this will make him feel better.” She smiled. “And I wrote him a letter on the back.” “Oh!” I turned the paper over to look at the back, which was covered in random letters and scribbles. “Um … what does it say?” She shrugged. “How would I know? I can’t read.”