Blog Archives

Don’t Lick the Minivan (or Scratch Words on It with Rocks)

DLM Front Cover OnlyLeanne Shirtliffe (aka “Ironic Mom“) — the far-better and far-more-female half of Stuff Kids Write — has published a book!

Please check out her humorous parenting memoir titled Don’t Lick the Minivan by either clicking here or on the book’s cover you see to your left (no, your other left). Then buy it.

If you’re a parent, you’ll laugh and nod knowingly as you read Leanne’s honest, hilarious description of life with her twins (not those twins: her kids). If you’re not a parent, the book is a reasonably-priced form of birth control. Either way, it’s a win for you!

Following is a post from Leanne which first appeared on Stuff Kids Write in May 2011. It’s funny in a cringe-worthy sort of way and gives you a pretty good idea of what you can expect from Don’t Like the Minivan.

Soccer night. Two kids on two different teams playing at two different fields. I have enough equipment to load down a trio of Sherpas. My husband is at a meeting and, as usual, I’m barely coping in my attempt to get everything and everyone out the door. I send Vivian and William outside while I gather the last of the gear, which includes my mitts and sunglasses (nothing says soccer season in Canada like contrasting accessories).

The door slams behind me. I notice Vivian and William collecting rocks on the side of our driveway.

I load the last of the stuff and walk around to open William’s side of the van.

I see this writing:

Stuff Kids Write

"William" (with sad face above)

“Did you use a rock to write on the van?” I say. Sometimes you have to ask the obvious.

Vivian looks at me. I can tell she’s stalling. “I’ll just crawl in William’s side,” she says.

“You didn’t write—“ I interrupt myself. “Did you carve things too?”

I walk over to the other side.

I see this.

Stuff Kids Write

"Vivian only" (with scratches on the left, where she was trying to get the rock to work properly)

And this.

Stuff Kids Write

"on behalf of my class" (yes, she's composing dedications)

My kids know by my speechlessness that they’ve done wrong.

I rub my index finger across one of the gorges. “This won’t come off,” I say. “Ever.”

I hear choruses of “I’m sorry” and “We didn’t know.”

And I think: Freaking stuff kids write.

It’s Chuck Norris’s Fault

This past spring, when I. H. was in Year 2* at school, she wrote a story in her journal.

She is clearly attuned to pop culture and Chuck Norris facts, as you can see by this:

"The driver crashed into the house because Chuck Norris pushed him."

This is a brilliant illustration of cause and effect.

And I’m not surprised that Chuck Norris did that.

To read more of I.H.’s adventures, check out her mom Kirsty’s blog, Tantrums and Tears.

What has Chuck Norris made you do?

*Year 2 is the British equivalent of first grade.

`

Marriage Proposals: The Check Box System

It’s the question that will bring even the most confident man to his knees.

Will you marry me?

Jack knows.

He agonized over how to pop the question for days.

Should he ask her in person?

Should he express himself in writing?

Should he have someone else ask her for him?

To quote his mother, “It literally kept him up for days.”

Finally, six-year-old Jack opted to write his intended a note. But even the written word didn’t calm his nerves.

Would she misunderstand the check mark boxes?

I don’t know what Megan said, but I do know that a six-year-old with that kind of printing is a keeper. Jack’s penmanship nearly guarantees that he will become a man who takes out the garbage and puts his socks in the laundry without being asked.

To read more about Jack’s antics, go to his mom’s blog, Sh*t My 6-Year-Old Says.

*

Has your child, niece, or nephew done any comedic writing? If so, consider sending it to us at stuffkidswrite(at)gmail(dot)com.

How To Get Your Children To Write

As an English teacher and writer (yes, they’re sometimes mutually exclusive), parents frequently ask me how they can get their children to write outside of school.

I now have a new answer.

Threaten to take them to the dentist.

That’s what Joy Bennett did.

And this is how her five-year-old (S.) responded.

"No dentist no no no"

The primary purpose of writing is to communicate.

The most important tenet of writing is clarity.

I’d say S. nailed them both.

And I’m with him. I went to the dentist this morning. And in six months, I will echo S and say: no dentist no no no.

*

Joy Bennett blogs at Joy In This Journey and is a contributing writer at Deeper Story.

*

Any dentist stories out there?

*

Has your child, niece, or nephew done any comedic writing? If so, consider sending it to us at stuffkidswrite(at)gmail(dot)com.

Mom Is Not Your Boss

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.

She wrote:


Nothing like a daughter who can recognize her father’s duress.

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.

Playing the Guilt Card

This morning, I found this note behind a dresser. I’m not sure when it was written or under what circumstances, but it pretty much cuts to the chase:

Ouch.

I’m about 82% positive my wife didn’t actually say “I don’t love you” to our 7-year-old son. He came to that conclusion after-the-fact based on some sort of traumatic interaction or event involving his mom. Three possible scenarios:

  1. A remnant of crust remained on a butter-and-jelly sandwich she had prepared for him.
  2. At bedtime, she laid in bed with his brother for 15 seconds longer than she did with him.
  3. She suggested that Yoda’s lightsaber skills are overrated.

Oh no she didn’t!

No, she probably didn’t.

*****

If your children have ever played the guilt card on you, or you have any other funny writing they or other kids have composed, please share it with us by sending to stuffkidswrite (at) gmail (dot) com!

Where Bacon Comes From

Sure, you love bacon, but do you know where it actually comes from?

Read Nicholas’s book, “All About Pigs,” and you’ll find out.

Besides being a terrific writer, Nicholas is also an outstanding illustrator, and you’ll see that he understands the value of a powerful, well-placed image to provide clarity for the reader.

This is about as clear as it gets.

*****

Thanks to Nicholas and his mom Katie for sharing this “enlightening” kindergarten masterpiece with us.

And as school starts back up, please be on the lookout for funny stuff (intentional or otherwise) that kids write and send it to us at stuffkidswrite(at)gmail(dot)com.

Will the Real Slame Shady (Leperchaun) Please Stand Up?

DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this work by 8-year-old WP are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, particularly a Grammy Award-winning artist, his feline companion, or the caricature from Lucky Charms cereal, is purely coincidental.

How I Got Kidnapped by Minim

Hi my name is slame shady leperchuan. And this is my story about how I got kidnapped by a rapper. Hope you enjoy!

Once opon a time there was a leperchaun named slame shady leperchaun. I met a rapper named minim. For some reason he kidnapped me. And you know what he made me do? He made me sing his latest hit! And after that he let me go. And you know what happened? His cat ate me whole! Yep! I told this whole story from a cat’s belly. The End.

(Ps. The cat ate my left hand.)

*****

Thanks to Jamie for submitting this awesome, imaginative story from her son. It’s the cat’s meow.

Please go check out Jamie’s blog at All Things Fnkybee and follow her on Twitter at  @Fnkybee.

To the best of our knowledge, she does not write from the belly of a cat.

My Summer Plans? Play Star Wars, Swim, Maybe Kick Some But

Any kid will tell you: summer goes fast.

Too fast. In June it seems summer will be endless. Long, lazy days without an agenda. You get up when you want, meander around, fiddle with this, faddle with that, no rush, no worries, thinking to yourself, “I’ve got all summer.”

Then all of a sudden August is breathing down your neck. You get a little panicky and realize you’d better revisit your summer game plan and prioritize what you’re going to do with the precious time you have left.

Maybe you even write an affirmation statement to remind yourself.

Last week I walked downstairs and found this on the couch. I guessed it was the 7-year-old’s handiwork, judging by the fact that he’d signed his name to it twice.

Good to know that in addition to playing Star Wars, jumping on the tramp, and riding his bike, he’s going to squeeze in some time to put a beatdown on his 4-year-old sister before summer gets away from him.

*****

Before summer gets away from you, submit something funny that a kid wrote to Stuff Kids Write! Just email an image of the writing, an explanation (if necessary), the child’s name (or initials) and age to stuffkidswrite (at) gmail (dot) com.

In These Economic Times, It’s Important to Diversify Your (Lego) Portfolio

Introducing RK, a boy who will no doubt be featured regularly at SKW in the future.

In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if at some point we simply change the name of the site to Stuff RK Wrote (or Analyzed).

A couple things you need to know about this kid:

1. He is 8-years-old.

2. He is wicked smart.

3. Someday he will own three-quarters of the world.

See, RK is a numbers person. He looks at the world and sees figures and data and mathematical possibility.

Numbers people tend to make money. Lots of it. On the other hand, word people, like myself, tend to make witty comments to wealthy numbers people as we hand them Refried Burritonators and large Pepsis through the drive-thru window at Taco Bell.

RK’s numeric-rich DNA no doubt comes in large part from his dad, Travis, one of my best friends.

In college, Travis and I, along with our other roommate, The Wookie, would watch no less than 18 hours of SportsCenter per day. The Wookie and I would generally guffaw at the verbal hijinks of anchors Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann while Travis would enter a Raymond-the-Rain-Man state of statistical computation and suddenly say things like, “Ahman Green averages 3.2 yards-per-carry on running plays to the left side of center during daytime conference home games, but he only averages 2.9 yards-per-carry when running over the right side during nighttime games away from home versus non-conference opponents.”

Then one of us would typically fart, say “Average that!”, and the three of us would laugh and drink another Keystone Light.

Man, those were the days.

Anyway, RK was genetically predisposed to be numbers through-and-through. And here’s an example. Travis found this file saved on the family computer (conveniently named “fdsafgfrftfvfbf jkl;jhjujyjmjnj dedswsaqa kiklol;p;.bmp”).

Travis explains:

As far as we can tell, he was analyzing the type of Legos he has, possibly getting ready for a presentation to his parents about how he needs to have better diversification in his Legos portfolio. In our household, Legos have been used as currency in heated discussions regarding politics, work ethic, economics, and budgets. A way for dad to explain some things he can get passionate about and have his son relate.

Graphing his Lego portfolio? 8-years-old?

Hell, RK may end up owning four-quarters of the world.

*****

Thanks, Travis, for sharing this. Please tell RK that I’d like to schedule an appointment to evaluate my Lego portfolio. It’d be nice to know when I can retire.

And if you wouldn’t mind, grab me another Key Light while you’re up.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 13,954 other followers