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Excerpt: Coloring with my daughter is a little like coloring in a North Korean prison. She doles out the markers you are to use and marks your pages indicating where each color belongs. She hands me one marker at a time, only after she has tested the color to see if she likes it, saying “we can share”. Little Kim Jung Il comes over to check on my progress periodically and shakes her head at my inability to stay in the lines. She is clearly disappointed in my artistic abilities. This is nothing new. She once got very upset with me because I didn’t draw Velma’s arms correctly when I tried to help her finish a drawing.