“Oh, you’re left-handed?”, I get asked once again. “Yes!”, I say proudly as I reminisce on the fact like a gift on Christmas. Even though sometimes I feel like an oddball surrounded by a bunch of even stevens. I may bowl with my right like the rest of my family, but for other activities my left-hand is in action like a soldier on the battlefield.
The plastic wrapping of a mechanical pencil is far too familiar for I have gripped one all these years, in my left-hand. The cold, heavy fork and spoons I use to eat leafy salads and brothy soups have also been accustomed to being held, in my left-hand. Playing baseball in the our humble backyard and catching the leather-bound ball, in my left-hand