It's a tuesday evening in the Findeis home. The weather outside is far from frightful, yet far from pleasant. A normal winter evening. The sun is setting. The family is gathering. Some watching T.V, some reading, some being completely consumed by something completely pointless. You hear nothing but silent sighs and scuffling feet. And then it comes. The sound that can't be ignored. The silent yet extreme exhale of breath that can only mean one thing...
"where is my pen?"
I think I have a pen in my purse
"No, my pen. My pen. The pen that was just in my hand"
Check the drawers
Immense sigh of relief.
Never mess with my G2's.
Oh that is the WORST. G2s are expensive and NOT to be messed around with... I have a secret bag in my backpack that I keep all my nice pens in and when someone asks to borrow a pen, psh, there is no WAY they are getting one of my G2s. No, I'll find a promotional ballpoint one for them hanging out at the bottom of my backpack.
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