Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
A classic | he was fuckin it up 😂
so this has been sitting in my drafts for quite a while now because i’ve been scared to post it.
i made this short comic for a class back in april. it’s called “midnight phonecalls (but at 4am)” and it’s sort of about that depression that hits when it’s late at night and you don’t know why you’re alive. it’s also about running away, maybe. and worrying your friends. and phone anxiety. and a tree,
i tried to split it up for legibility lmao let me know how that worked. and thanks for reading, if you did!
how to train your dragon is just a viking au horse girl movie
haven’t seen this on tumblr yet, and tis the season
alright so Pangur got her claw stuck while rolling over in bed, and then just GAVE UP, which led to her being horizontally flattened in a way that gives her impossible girth and...... I'll share, but just know that it's an optical illusion. please. I swear to god she's a healthy weight. I mean, a little chubby, but not like this.
I'm curious--how do you guys go about creating your OCs?
is tesco feeling ok
the year is 1347. my husband just died from “the plague” and i’m moving in with my female “companion” in a secluded mansion in the european country. we have no kids and two dogs and we seem unusually close. i call her my wife but historians call her my best friend. little does everyone know, she’s both.
thatch - they/them i like the sims a lot and also other things sometimes
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