Have a room in your home in serious need of redecoration? Why not turn to the artwork of children to brighten those bare walls? Even better, dig up some of your own work if you still have it laying around.

My parent’s basement is plastered in the artwork my siblings and I brought home during our elementary school days, mainly because my mother kept every single piece of school-related paper. Several years ago, we all started going through our boxes and boxes of material to try to pare down the gargantuan load. In doing so, we ended up with a pile of our artwork, and were sitting in a rather undecorated space.

So this happened:

In my case, it was clear that my artistic skills ceased at about the second grade. If I drew a flower today it would look quite a bit like one done by my 8-year-old self. But there is one piece that I find particularly entertaining. It’s hanging on the wall just above my computer screen. According to what’s written on the back, it was done in the sixth grade. The assignment was some sort of poster contest, though I’m not sure the exact theme.

I went with “Save The World, Stop The Violence.” A worthy cause if I say so myself. I’ll point out the globe in the “O” of World. That’s probably my greatest artistic achievement. I remember tracing the gun from something, and my teacher not wanting to display my work because it had a gun. I can’t imagine what would have happened today. I probably would have been expelled for plotting to take down the school.

Then of course, there is the stop sign. If you didn’t look closely before, I’ll wait while you give it another glance…….Ok, what’s wrong with this picture? That’s right, my sixth-grade self made a stop sign with only six sides. It’s not like I didn’t pass by at least three of them while I rode my bike to school every day and should have known better. Maybe that’s why I didn’t win the contest.

One of the overall best works is courtesy of my sister. It makes me want to have a little card next to each piece explaining what the assignment was supposed to be. Check out this girl standing outside on a nice, sunny day:

She certainly looks very happy. But what makes this picture curious is the text. It has apparently been translated by a teacher to read “Abraham Lincoln got shot.” Um, what? Why is the girl so happy, and what does Lincoln have to do with this outside scene? Obviously the assignment was completed, since we can see the teacher’s red smiley face in the upper right corner. Was this a depiction of Jefferson Davis’ granddaughter? A previously unidentified Booth co-conspirator? This is why we need time machines.

The confusion brought to mind a casualty of my horrid handwriting from my Susquehanna days. My dorm room desk featured a pull-out keyboard tray that I used to store pens and an ongoing to-do list. My entire organization system depended on a single sheet of paper with a list of the item, a day I intended to complete it off to the left and the day it was due on the right. If I needed to scribble down a random piece of info, like a phone number or a message for my roommate, that made it onto an unused portion of the page.

But my final list has an entry I cannot decipher. I had no clue what it said just days after I wrote it, and definitely don’t have a better idea today. Here’s the full sheet:

Down in the bottom right corner is the boxed-in, questionable item:

Any ideas? I think it’s a name since both words appear to be capitalized. That is of course if we assume it is two words. That would lead me to say it’s Lauren B—. I hope I wasn’t supposed to call her or provide any sort of vital assistance, since I can’t recall ever knowing a Lauren B—.

Of course, it could just as easily be Carmen or Camera or Laven. If only I didn’t use the blue pen to write it, I’m sure this would have been no mystery. Despite my known poor handwriting, I still sometimes used a blue ballpoint pen that always added extra loops and confusion to my writing. Why didn’t I use the trusted set of black pens?!

Lauren, if you’re out there, I’m sorry.