There are many things I wish I could do that I just can’t. First is to be able to sing. I can’t. Second is to be able to dance. I can’t do that either. Finally, I wish I could draw. As my students at the community college would tell you, my diagrams and illustrations on the chalkboard look like something monkeys would draw at an inadequate zoo from some midsized industrial city.
The reason I wish I could draw is so that I could put together the following cartoon and submit it to the New Yorker or maybe Hallmark.
Here’s the premise. It’s the interior of a small one-room woodsy cabin. In bed, a young man and woman are lying in each others’ arms, strategically and tastefully covered by the blanket. A Christmas tree is in the corner. A holiday punch bowl sits empty on the table with cups strewn everywhere. Elaborate 18th century “Currier and Ives” costume clothing lays crumpled all over the room. Outside the window, a horse-drawn sleigh lies on its side. The woman is sleeping peacefully, but the man’s eyes are wide open.
The caption: “I sure hope that snowman wasn’t a real parson.”
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