Category Archives: Views of Adults
Sometimes kids write in strange places.
Thanks to SKW reader Tina for submitting this awesome piece. She explains:
I found this note while moving. I’ve had that table for about 8 years and never knew it was there!
The unanswered question: Who wrote this?
Based on the sentiment expressed, we can at least narrow it down to only those kids who’ve ever had parents.
Eight-year-old Vivian keeps a notebook in the backseat of her family’s car.
“For emergencies,” she says.
Evidently she had an emergency last week. While stopped at a red light, she handed her mom this note:
Send us the funny things your kids (or other people’s kids) write. Email a jpeg image to firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com. Pieces can be posted with credit or anonymously, and if you have a personal blog/site you’d like us to link to, we will.
Last month, Tamara and her husband decided to go against their bacon-loving ways and forgo meat. For a month. They have five kids who were also subjected to their 30 Days to Beat the Meat challenge .
Their third child, at age 7, decided to write a persuasive note to her dad.
But for those of you who may think a husband does not need to answer to his wife, I refer you to My Big Fat Greek Wedding, an opus on relationships.
Now please go to Tamara’s blog, Tamara Out Loud. She is a fab woman and a fab writer who blogs about sex and faith and pole dancing, not always at the same time, but sometimes.
I love that I can leave things like Father’s Day cards and crafts to my kids’ teachers. On Friday, both Vivian and William brought home the worst-kept secrets ever: bird houses they painted and built in their Grade One classrooms.
They also brought home letters to their dad.
Here is William’s note. You can see my transcription (and interpretations) below.
Dear Dad [great beginning]
I Love you so much! [This sentence took me a day to write. I told Mom. She says either it's heartfelt or I spent 44 minutes daydreaming about Decepticons.]
I like shooting bask[ets] with you and playing soccer with you [especially when you I score on you, like I did at last night's parents vs. children soccer game].
love william [who needs capital letters? e. e. cummings didn't].
Here is Vivian’s letter (William’s twin sister):
Dear Dad [another fab opener],
Thank you for making my life better in the past few years [even though those first four years were very rough].
You ARE the best! [as opposed to...were?]
You buy us things we like [way too much according to Mom], and you play with us.You love us too.
Wow dad I don’t know how you do that [but I plan to google it soon].
You would get a trophy from me…You will! [but Mom doesn't like letting any more stuff in the house].
Love you[r] daughter Vivian [you know, in case you were thinking I was someone else's daughter].
I am fascinated by how children view death. Unlike adults, kids are often able to talk about death like the eventuality it is. A few months ago, I told my six-year-old twins that it was Grandma’s 70th Birthday. My son asked, “Is she still alive?”
Well, one 7-year-old, who we’ll call SZ, has taken the eventuality of death to another level. He’s planning for it. This isn’t surprising if you know that SZ’s uncle is Clay Morgan, a fantastic blogger and all around great guy. Clay himself has worked in graveyards, so maybe there’s a recessive curious-about-death gene that runs through his family. Or maybe it’s just plain cleverness.
SZ is also obsessed with technology, including his uncle’s blog, EduClaytion.com. He even created some original artwork.
Clay thinks that by the time his nephew is thirteen, SZ will be the IT Director of Morgan Multimedia Worldwide, Clay’s not-so-secret plan to rule the world. I think Clay’s underestimating SZ. The kid’s a planner. I’d say he’ll have his sites on the CEO chair.
Here’s the proof.
So it’s Christmas holidays. SZ decides it’s time to make a list. Not a list of things he wants from Santa Claus, but a list of things he’d like, once his Grammy and Auntie die.
Here are the items that SZ has his eye on, you know, given the eventuality of death:
Even a record player.
SZ is retro cool. At age 7.
Look out, Clay Morgan.
First grade journals are a gold mine of delight. There’s something about the contrast between effort-laden printing and freewheeling thoughts that create humor. Add a few drawings and we have a similar level of effortlessness in kids’ writing as exists in boys’ soprano voices.
And then puberty comes. And ruins everything.
One cold wintry January day in her desk at school, AM wrote in her first grade journal about the events of the previous day. Here’s what she wrote:
TRANSCRIPTION: Last night my neighbour came over with her dog. His name is Scruffy. He’s cute. He even licked us. He is brown and fluffy. Our neighbour’s name is Caylen. She has two sons and a husband (has been!) named Les. The end.
Whether it’s husband, hasbin, or has-been, AM is a girl who learns quickly.
To find out how to submit a piece of humourous children’s writing to Stuff Kids Write, check the sidebar.
If you didn’t grow up on a farm, you may not know there is a huge difference between a pet cat and a tom cat. To be blunt, the former you can pet; the latter you stay away from, unless you want a trip to the city hospital for stitches. Still, both types of cats help control the mouse population. Conflicts are rare if everyone stays in their place.
But sometimes a clash of species occurs.
HS knows that. When she was six, the tom cat that roamed the outskirts of her family’s farm got a little too close. Well, much too close, especially to their pet cat (Wild) and her kittens. HS’s dad took over.
Here is HS’s first grade journal entry, a letter to her father about how he handled the tom cat versus house cat conflict.
I remember when we shot the tom cat. He was a bugger. He was stupid.
He killed 3 batches of kittens. We think that he killed Wild.
You shot him (Good Dad) in the head.
It was funny, but when we found Wild we were sad.
You buried the tom cat and Wild in the garden.
I’m pretty sure HS (a.k.a. Bug) has a future in humor writing.
Here’s hoping all our weekends are tom cat free.
To read more about tom cats, guns, and growing up as a farm girl, check out my post today at Ironic Mom.