The exercise:
Write something which takes place at: the birthday party.
We had a StrongStart field trip at our farm this morning. Obviously I missed out on it, but it sounds like it went well. Max loves being the farm tour guide so I'm sure he was fully in his element.
With the sun shining all day there were more people out and about once again but it has yet to result in much additional work for me.
Sounds pretty ideal, actually. More of the same tomorrow?
Yes, please.
Mine:
The birthday boy is bawling
And throwing a fit since
His cake is splattered all over the
Room.
Guess he wasn't quick enough
To blow out the flames
Before the dynamite candles went
Boom.
2 comments:
Does StrongStart do field trips to all the children's family's places of work (that's a good genitive construction!)? In which case I'm looking forward to your tale of the class trips to the wine-tasting at the vintner's and to the abattoir :)
Dynamite candles seem like exactly the right way to make a birthday cake more exciting! (It also seems like something Henri would do... I wonder if it's just a coincidence that he was in your blog pages just a few days ago?) I really like the structure and word choice for your poem; it packs a (literal) punch and made me laugh.
The birthday party
Sixticton's pre-school programme was called WrongStart due to a combination of being underbudgeted and sued for copyright infringement. They'd needed to replace an "S" and a "t" but only been able to afford one more letter, and "W" had been settled on eventually as creating an English word with no sexual overtones. The brochures advertising it and expressing its Mission Statement came with footnotes explaining the advent of the name and assuring parents that it wasn't actually a school for proto-criminals, though this wasn't helped by the playground sculpture being Poseidon subduing his daughters which, while classical and educational, did appear to show a bearded man attempting to stab some young, fishy girls with a trident.
"The Headmaster is interviewing again," said Jean (WrongStart was progressive and didn't believe in undeserved titles like "Miss", "Mister" or "Mayor"). "I hope he's found someone good this time."
Steve, who was blowing up balloons for the class birthday party, heaved a huge breath and said, "What happened to the last one? I thought he had good references?"
"Apparently he attended the lobster boil at Asbestos Park," said Jean. "And you know how much litter was left after that."
"I can still smell lobster when the wind blows from the west," said Steve. "Not a good choice then. What do we know about this one?"
"She's called Miss Snippet," said Jean. "She put Miss down as her first name on the application form, which is a bit pretentious if you ask me."
"Guys?" Martha came into the airy room that they used for all the class birthdays. "Guys, which Mini-me is having the birthday today?"
"Klaus", said Jean at the same moment as Steve said, "Jenny." The three-teachers had a wide-eyed mexican stand-off of gazes for a moment.
"Oh crap," said Jean. "There're two of them?"
"It's fine," said Martha, "we've got a spare cake and if I put a spoonful of extra sugar in everyone's juice they'll all be too hyper to pay too much attention."
"I can tweak the banners," said Steve. "Kenny or Jesus?"
"Better go with Kenny," said Jean, "we ought to keep religion out of school. Why do we have a spare cake?"
"Remember when we lost Julio after the field trip to the crocodile ranch? It was his birthday that week and we didn't have the party since we thought he'd been eaten. We've still got the cake."
"That's got to be four months old!" said Jean at the same time as Steve said, "Wait, he wasn't eaten?"
"Well," said Martha, "we only need the second cake for show, and 'Julio' is quite easy to turn into 'Jenny' with a knife and a steady hand. And yes, he wasn't eaten, he just got turned into a pair of boots and a handbag."
"He's lovely and waterproof," said Jean. "Best accident we've ever had."
There was a moment of silence.
"Tragic, though," she added.
Greg - hah, no. Though I wouldn't mind a wine tasting field trip. Anywhere beside my home, obviously.
I'm quite sure Henri had nothing to do with this. Well, mostly sure.
Good lord, this is fantastic. Way too many great bits to try to single out. Perfectly ended, too. Bravo, sir. Bravo :D
(hey, look at me all caught up on comments!)
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