My oldest son is an incredible artist. My 5-year-old will have his brother draw a picture before asking me. Actually, he would ask our dog to help before turning to his own mother. In fact the critical shit tells me, “You need more practice.” Well, at least I can tie my own shoes. (Oh, no she didn’t.) Okay, I suck. In eighth grade my self portrait looked like a Zombie ate my face. Too soon? Anyway, this is a kid who needed occupational therapy because he “didn’t hold his crayon right.” I don’t know about you, but I think if he draws like this at 12-years-old he can hold a Crayola any way he wants.