Sign, sign everywhere a sign

I knew that Kindergarten would immediately turn Trevi into a writer. I just knew it.

For Clara, writing was something she always felt compelled to do. From the time she was three, everything was labeled. Everything had instructions. She wrote lists. She wrote reminders.
Trevor, on the other hand, never saw the connection between the million thoughts in his head, and the way the printed word could convey them. Now, all of a sudden, he does. Big time. And so the signs have started appearing all over the house.

On the left: "You have to do the password."
On the right: "–> Snuggle place for Trevor and Mummy."

Below: "Trevor's band starts at the afternoon."
Trevi writes with much the same urgency as he makes his inventions, and, at the moment, with little concern for directionality, or worry about whether or not his words overlap. Though he may lack finesse, he definitely writes with purpose. And, do you think I listened to his band, said the password, and snuggled with him in the snuggle place? Yes, I most certainly did.