A picture of grandpa

I remember the first story Mala wrote.

She had only just started walking and was still in diapers.

She brought me a piece of paper.

"Dad," she said. "I've written a picture."

I could see her excitement.

I looked at what she'd written. All I could see were sqiuggles and spidery lines.

"It's grandpa" she said, helpfully. "He has a toothache."