Category Archives: Views of Adults
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.