Red rubber balls

I have an obsession with giving my dad Art, my Dad-I know, the least likely candidate for Art appreciation. Sometimes I make it for him, sometimes I buy it for him but no matter how hard I try or how many times I tell myself he does not really appreciate the gesture I cannot stop.

I’m cleaning the Art room like a mad woman in a desperate attempt to have it looking passable in time for parent teacher conferences in two weeks. Not that anyone ever makes it all the way down the hall. Also, not that they know what to say to me when they get here if they do…

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