I Was Wrong Once

Do you know the story of the insufferable man on a blind date, who, trying to impress the girl told her, “I have never been wrong.”  She looked at him with that pasted-on smile, which he must have known was betraying annoyance, so he added, “Oh wait, I was wrong once. I thought I was wrong but I was really right.”

You may recall from a couple of posts ago (Fornot-Me-Gets) (if your memory is better than mine), that I found that I left my paint brushes at home after traveling to see the kids down south.  Upon arriving home today, the first thing I did was look for them. I could not find them anywhere. I gave up and started to unpack.  My brushes were at the bottom of one of my bags.

My conclusion is that I don’t actually have a bad memory, I just don’t remember that I have a good memory.

Anyway, after the exhausting trip back I drew a pencil drawing of our room as I was relaxing.

Drawing: Gray Scale Study of Home after a Trip

Relaxing at Home
12″x9″ 60# Drawing Paper

One thought on “I Was Wrong Once

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