The Pink Eraser

Where would we be if we didn't have erasers? This thought popped into my head while I was taking a literature test today (five hand written paragraphs). What would we do without that faithful little pink block of synthetic rubber? Our test pages would be scribbled all over, that is for sure. In fact, what would we do if we didn't have pencils we could erase? This would certainly be a world wide tragidy. Imagine all the wasted sheets of paper because us humans are too hasty to take the time and make sure we do our work neatly. These little pink companions are truly quite useful, probably one of the most useful inventions. And its brother, the famed White Out, is just as useful as it is. This was demonstrated today by my friend Vic in government, who decided to write in pen for the first time in a while. Soon enough, out came the little bottle of White Out, ready and waiting to cover up any mistakes. Vic, who is minorly OCD, can't stand scratch marks on her notes, so imagine the state she would be in if the White Out failed her purposes? I'm sure you can use your freshly awakened imagination to figure that one out.

Thus was the case with my pink eraser in I, sitting in literature class. I scribbled away, writing who knows what about Ralph Waldo Emerson, and lo and behold, I realized that an entire paragraph was missing. Well, thats just peachy. So, I picked up said eraser, who is certainly needing a name by now, with all the referals it has recieved. The perfectly chiseled tips allow for detailed erasing, whereas the flat side is used for erasing bigger jobs. Don't ever make the mistake of erasing a whole paragraph with the corner, because this leaves a very sad looking corner that just doesn't match the rest. (my poor eraser is currently in this state)

So, my purpose for this short little narrative/essay is that do not disgrace your erasers by simply scratching out your mistakes- this proves the inward laziness that you keep so carefully hidden inside. And always, always, always write in pencil- unless that trusted bottle of White Out is resting somewhere nearby.