Everybody in my family has different hands. My dads hands are muscular, callaced, and dark. Theyâ€™re the kind of hands you look for and grab when you are scared. The kind of hands that work hard day in and day out to provide for a family. My brother hands, are frail and weak, like a twig off a branch. Theyâ€™re the kind of hands that grip an xbox controller for hours and hours on end. My mom's hands are soft and delicate. Theyâ€™re the kind of hands that are constantly feeding and taking care of her two children. My hands however, are a little bit of everything. My hands are bony and boring. Theyâ€™re the kind of hands that pound a basketball for hours on end. The kind of hands that grip the butt of the fishing rod on a hot summer day.
January 17, 2018