When Tara’s stepdaughter was seven, she wrote about how the world needed to change.
Translation: “I would really like to change the world. I think we should put more trees and more water, and there is too much dirt, too. Stop writing ‘fuck’ in toilets. Thank you.”
We couldn’t agree more.
Thanks to Tara of Love from Tara for the awesome submission. If you have something funny that your child or someone else’s kid wrote, please send a picture of it to mcfadden(dot)chase(at)gmail(dot)com or leanneshirtliffe(at)gmail(dot)com.
We at SKW hereby officially declare this note from 9-year-old Ryan to his father as the most convincing, guilt-inducing argument for plugging in a fan in the history of pleas to parents from their children for electrically generated air circulation.
Man, can those close-to-suffocating, very-nearly-heat-strokin’ first born sons lay on a guilt trip, or what?
Don’s 5-year-old daughter made this birthday card for her papa.
It really captures everything a papa could hope for on his birthday.
Attentive wait staff? Check.
Good beer? Check.
Happy birthday, indeed.
On behalf of SKW’s followers, a toast to Don, his daughter, and Papa! With good beer, of course. (Are there bad beers?)
Thanks for sharing, Don!
(You can check out Don’s thoughts on his daughter’s beerthday masterpiece at his blog, Don of All Trades.
Jessica submitted this piece from one of her students. In her words:
“I give my students a survey to complete at the end of the year. I use the information when I write my final report cards. This was from one of my little boys (2nd grade). Jayden was another second grade boy, and for a 7-year-old, he did have a lot of girlfriends!”
Moral of the story?
Being good at math doesn’t necessarily add up to more love from the ladies.
Kristen’s 9-year-old composed this ode to her awesomeness for Mother’s Day.
We can only imagine how teary-eyed Kristen was after reading it.
Teary-eyed from laughter, possibly, but teary-eyed nonetheless.
Thanks to Kristen for putting her modesty aside and sharing with the readers of SKW how she puts roadkill to shame. Check out her blog here. (SPOILER ALERT: No roadkill.)
You should share some funny kids’ writing with us, too! End-of-school time is a great opportunity to discover a treasure in a child’s backpack. (SPOILER ALERT: There may be roadkill.)
Email an image of the piece to either firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com. Or to both if you’re feeling ambitious.
Leanne 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:
“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.
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.
Six-year-old Connor wrote about his family’s trip to Six Gun City in his “What I Did This Summer” journal.
Judging by that waterslide, it looks like a really fun place.
Who knows? Sex Gun City might be fun, too.
No word on what the waterslides are like there.
Thanks to Erica, Connor’s mom, for sharing his summer memory. Check out her blog here.
Please share your image of a funny piece of children’s writing by submitting to firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com.
If you do, we’ll let you go down that slide.
Or give you a ticket to Sex Gun City.
Whichever you prefer.