My son just finished fourth grade, or, as we call it here in Canada, grade four. Tomato/Tomahto, Potato/Socialized Medicine, right?
The last week of every June, I put on a pair of durable latex gloves and I empty his backpack containing his desk and locker contents. There’s always a few unidentifiable food items, rocks, broken sticks, a golf ball or two, and sometimes the petrified remains of a poor caterpillar who lived his last remaining days in an empty fruit salad container. At least this time around there were no bones or skulls, something which cannot be said for prior years.
All in all, grade four was a wonderful experience for my son. He had a great teacher who was patient and liked boys in her classroom. She advocated for movement and provided tools to get those kids outside and I am grateful to her and his school for giving him a joyful 2013/2014 school year. This teacher also had the kids write in a journal every day, and I love her for it because how else would I learn how my son really feels about, say, the dentist:
I’m sorry, son; you were born into a family with sponge toffee teeth. Make your peace with it. (And maybe marry someone with a really good dental plan.)
Honestly, the dentist is almost as bad as a mom who has the balls to keep you looking presentable:
Here, let me take your mind off having that tooth pulled. Let’s watch some TV.
If it’s an “egicashonal” show, then how can I refuse a later bedtime? I’M NOT A MONSTER.
Maybe all that TV will awaken a humanitarian longing and we can talk about ways you’ll change the world with vows of poverty and pacifism…oh, wait:
(To be fair, my list would be eerily similar, with perhaps the addition of a reliable vehicle and a small craft brewery.)
Oh, what’s that? TV sapped your creative reserves?
I get it; I do. Writer’s block is the absolute worst. The addition of a hashtag is a nice touch too, and shows me he understands modern technology and learning methods. He can’t be left unattended in the bathroom without a flood and/or international incident, but he gets modern communication.
The best thing for writers block – I’ve found anyway – is to let your thoughts percolate while you do something else. Maybe cook a nice meal, or go for a walk. Housework is always a good bet, or try reading a few chapters of a great book. Or you can doodle. You know; put pen to paper and create a potential masterpiece. Maybe something like this:
This one is going on our gallery wall.