This rough sketch is one of several amateurish drawings I discovered while going through my old papers in my mother's basement following her unexpected death in July 2017.

This cartoon is dated 1 June 1990; I was 14 years old. As I recall, on that day I was drawing cartoons in my room, while my family was outside weeding the garden. Afterwards, when my family decided to go out for ice cream to celebrate their hard work in the garden, my mother invited me join them. I protested, saying that I had not done any work and therefore did not deserve any treats. But my mother indulgently came to my defense and said that I'd been doing brain work. Why she let me get away with this injustice escapes me to this day, but I love her for it.