Daily Memory

"You'll get ink poisoning!" I'm sure everyone has hear these words spoken by their mother at least once while growing up. It usually follows the surprise when you come walking through the house with dark blue ball point scribbles all over your arms. I heard it a lot surprisingly enough and even knew it was a load of rubbish, but I will say that it left an indelible impression on me.

When I was very young and my sister was even younger, my father had gone to Mexico for work or to run drugs and came back with a gift for each of us. The gift was a simple ball point pen that was encased in a wooden shaft with a matching wood sombrero at the top. I treasured this pen and loved the painted designs on it. But what I remember most is entering my baby sister's room who was no older than two at the time, and she was standing shirtless drawing furious little squiggles on her chest. I looked at her in surprise and suddenly my mother popped out of my mouth when I pointed and cried "You're going to get ink poisoning!"