My eight-year-old's handwriting is bad. I mean, House Industries circa 1995 scrawl. (ok, only other graphic designers will appreciate that reference.) Doesn't mean he's not brilliant—the kid's spatial, mathematical, and conceptual brain cells are well-oiled and humming.
But handwriting? Egad. Which hurts the heart of a designerly mommy just a little. And it doesn't help report cards, either. So recently, I endeavored to get back to the basics and had him practice his wee letters.
The child redeemed himself. Utterly. Not because his handwriting has exponentially improved. But because of what he chose to do with it. Note the use of typographic symbol, relevant bubble type, and of course, flattery.
Maybe he'll be a typographer after all. Needless to say, I'm keeping this gem. I think I'll frame it and display it someplace prominent during his teen years. A historical reference of the time when I was actually considered a cool mom.
