I once knew a small child who never capitalized proper nouns or the first word of a sentence. Like a nagging wife, teachers incessantly told him You must capitalize, oh small child! or You could have earned an A instead of a B- if only you’d capitalized! But on he went choosing the art of non-capitalized words to paint the canvas of his authorship. He grew up to be a man of small stature.
There once was a young woman who could never quite type correctly. Now, capitalization she knew to be a necessary rule to follow. The problem was her fingers always stumbled too long, like a guest who does not leave when the party has expired, over the <shift> key so that words scattered about whatever she wrote with two capital letters, instead of the customary one capital letter. She never admitted so, but she was a rather big headed and large chested woman, with the tiniest waste and skinniest legs anyone ever did see.
There was another boy who loved a’s and o’s (but o’s rather emphatically) and whose stomach was round as a pumpkin.
That boy had a grandfather whose shoe size was a humble six his entire life. That is, up until his sixty-first birthday. He was an artist, you see, and he stumbled upon what became a very lucrative artistic idea: Capital letter L‘s, and many of them, each different in some form or manner. The more he painted and sculpted capital L’s, the more his boyishly small feet would grow. Upon his death, a custom-made casket was ordered for him by his family, who were, as should properly be, quite saddened. Saddened by his sudden death, yes, but even more upset by the fact that the custom-made casket, which was needed to house his now rather unusually large feet, cost so much that it bankrupted his savings thereby leaving no inheritance for any of his family who survived him. However, they were not saddened for very long, as irony played it’s always rather ironic hand. The pallbearers who were carrying the back of the casket suddenly cramped in their hands and so dropped the casket. It landed foot-side down at the foot of the deceased man’s grave resembling quite the iconic capital letter L, causing a deathly *gasp* to exude from those attending the funeral. Thinking her dead husband was speaking from his grave-to-be, his widow had the casket bronzed and shown at an art expo. It sold for twenty-five million dollars.