Upon closer observation, I loved this tragic and truly fascinating creature.
I felt an odd kinship of sorts, being a bit prickly myself lately.
“The porcupine, which one must handle gloved, may be respected, but is never loved.”
—Arthur Guiterman, poet
Here’s my own version of that quote.
The end of the school year mother, which one must ‘handle gloved’, should be respected, always loved and often feared.