I seem to be meeting my television earlier in the day. I've started watching "Pyramid" which is a terrific game show, with a cheesey host where you basically play Catch Phrase for money. You have a word, and have to make the other person say it.
But I was watching this, and on the commercial, I muted the TV so Diana could read me her Christmas story that she wrote in school. It started out with a radio station anchor telling the world (haha) that Santa will not be delivering gifts this year because of sickness. I dunno about you, but for a fifth grader, isn't that really brilliant? I mean, you have a story, a plot totally about this family, the Claus'. I was just wondering where she got the idea to put a radio station in there. I remember my stories, they were action packed, well, for myself, at least. They gave me a visual, and probably nobody else. But they were still kinda simple. I remember one of my stories based on the movie "The Firm," that was about a law firm who would fight crime. So...I kinda made a spin off of "The Firm." A wild spin off.
But later that night, Diana was reading Mom a story about a family who lives in the depressing world of Seattle. I asked Diana why she chose Seattle to have her story take place in, and she told me "Because it rains a lot." Again, brilliance. But in the story there are parents yelling, and the ending is the parents getting divorced. Then there was this child who would run to her room and turn the radio up so loud that nobody could talk to her, but I missed how that part got in there. It was based on the girl who had parents fighting. I need to read that again.
I wanted to put quotes in here, but Diana left them at school today. Some other time, pershaps. Her Santa story wasn't even finished. It was about Santa talking Mrs. Claus into delivering presents, and then, somehow talking the elves into delivering. She needs something to happen to Mrs. Claus. Like, she should get kicked by one of the reindeer.
In my English class, we've been "studying" poetry. There have been quite a few that we've read, and most I actually liked. "Please Don't Take my Air Jordans" is a really good poem, which uses slang to rhyme. I think that's a song, though. Anyway, it rhymes.
But yesterday was the poetry test, which I finished quite quickly, which made me feel good because that must mean it was easy. That night, I wrote up a bunch of random rhymes and tried turning them into poems. I have a page of retarted poems, and a couple other poems. But today I didn't want to read my nice long poems and read one of my shorter poems (one of the non-retarded sort) and I got bad grading from the judges. My highest scores were 8's, and I got that from a Jewish guy who commented on how he liked the Christmas part of it, haha. Tony's a nice guy, though. He's really awesome.
Well, here's my favorite one for y'all:
M I D N I G H T S N A C K
With my remote, I turn the room to darkness
And rest my head upon my pillow, indulge in softness
But I toss and turn, for I cannot sleep
I cannot dream of dancing sheep
Too thirsty or hungry, am I
I arise into the coldness with an unrelaxing sigh
And up the stairs, I venture
Now is a good time to practice my stealthiness
Then I will eat, for it is good for my healthiness
Living in the basement makes things easily
For I am two floors away from my family
Not for long though, when I reach the top of the stairs
I am only one floor away from anyone who cares
And now into the kitchen, I venture
First to the fridge, this illuminates the light
Now I have a better sight
Of the food I�m about to consume
But this fridge is quite empty, nothing in here, I presume
A look up in the freezer for a nice cool snack
But even ice cream does this freezer lack
And now over to the pantry, I search
Here, there are only canned goods
I would cook them if only I coulds
So it�s back to the fridge because there�s nothing here
Now I�m going back and forth wishing something magically appear
Minutes later, walking back on over to the pantry for a look around
I stop in my tracks, frozen�I hear an upstairs sound
And now this has turned into a scary adventure
Whoever was making those sounds had been coming downstairs
And now I have to hide, but where do I dares?
I should have been paying attention
To the sounds I could have mentioned
But now I can�t make a peep
For there is someone who will seek
Any sound that they hear, any one who is near
On my hands and knees, I try to sneak
Because the person looking for me is not very meek
They are standing in the pantry, probably looking for a clue
I can see them, I have the perfect view
It�s my mom, so downstairs I can creep
She came to do the laundry, when does she sleep?
But now I can close the door over the sound of the washing machine
I silently get under the covers of my bed
Now I can lean back restfully with my hands on my head
Listening to my mother walk back where she came from
I can still hear the sound of the washing machine hum
Each of my eyes roll in their socket
And I pull my snack out of my pocket
With a smile on my face
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