• 18 Dec, 2025 *

The other day, while picking up my daughter from school, I saw her consoling a classmate who was sobbing.

I hung back for a moment, wondering what had happened.

It turned out the girl’s mechanical pencil had broken.

My first instinct as an adult was just relief that no one was hurt. (kids be crazy active sometimes)

To me, a pencil is a minor thing.

But then my daughter told me it was a birthday gift from two months ago.

To that little girl, it wasn’t just a pencil; it was important.

Really, really important.

It made me stop and think: I’m not that different.

I deal with my own "mechanical pencil" problems.

The ones that feel overwhelming and all-consuming right now.

But in five or ten years, most of the things keeping me up at night will likely look just like that broken pencil.

Its a moment that felt huge, but was really just a small part of a much bigger story.

This perspective doesn’t make the problems disappear.

Doesn’t diminish how much they matter in the moment.

But it does make them feel less heavy.

It helps me trust that I’ll figure it out.

That little girl will find a new favorite pencil (maybe even like a new pair of Kuromi hair clips or something, idk).

I’ll find the lessons I’m supposed to learn.

In the end, maybe I’m just a bigger kid after all.