Form

The neighborhood no-kill animal shelter has a form to fill out that they give out to people looking to adopt a cat.
The clerk hands me a clipboard and a pen, and I sit down in the lobby.
Two hours later, I hand the clipboard back.
The clerk’s eyes go wide as she looks over the form.
Sure, I’ve filled out my name and the details, but every checkbox has meticulously-drawn kittens peeking out from them, and the lines have been turned into unraveling balls of yarn being played with by more kittens.
“You’ll do fine,” says the clerk, smiling.