Nathaniel found a little leather book of poems that I wrote and gave to my great-grandmother when I was nine or ten. Most of them are embarrassingly bad, but it was kind of fun to look back. He also found my version of The Grudge, written fifteen years ago (why weren't my parents worried about me???)

There once was a sailor named Piggy
Who liked to do old Irish jiggies.
He danced to a reel
And fell off the keel
And all they could find was his wiggy!