The Carver

There are some novels out there, "The Giver", "The Help", "The Road".

Well, this post is about "The Carver". I'm pretty sure you've all been one. Just admit it.
I found this:

when I was wiping the table the other day. I wonder if I can doctor it up a bit for you so you can know what I know :-)

OK, here goes:

Now, for the "Ghost of Carving Past" -- heh heh. I did a little carving on my parents' wood pillars, in their living room. The pillars are still there and I imagine my carving is still there too. I think I carved my middle name, "Marie". I wonder if my parents knew who it was. . .

 

I asked my husband about his carving past (b/c I know for sure his mom has told stories about it) and he gave me this innocent look and denied any carving. He said, "My work was not art. I was scientifically testing the different wood layers present in my parents' piano. I made a single, very deep gouge." Then, he went on to tell me all about the different layers.

What a man! He is still that curious kid . .