onsdag 11 februari 2015

3 January

What’s up, diary?

You know, diary, you were one of my Christmas presents. But there are certain risks involved in asking for a diary. Everybody knows that it’s against the law for soon-to-be 13 year-old boys to keep a diary. The law book says, “humans of the male gender shall not record in a diary any thoughts or opinions, but instead shall dedicate their time to building cars and watching football. On the other hand, women of the female variety may happily possess a diary and therein describe kisses and secret thoughts and draw little red, hearts.” Page 32.
But I’m breaking the law. Actually, I broke the law last year too when I was in sixth grade. Because that’s when I had my first diary. This year I asked for another diary for Christmas. I guess that makes me a repeat-offender. My other diary is hidden under a hat. First I put it in my shoe. But it didn’t fit. Then I stuffed it into my pillow-case. But I thought I might get a concussion when I went to sleep. So now it lives in a hat. I think it’s pretty happy there. When I asked for my new diary, I was afraid that Mom and Dad would turn me over to the police or something if they knew the truth. So on my Christmas list I called it an “important homework assistance device.”
“Oh, so you want a lamp for your desk,” Mom guessed.
“Uh, no,” I said. “I want an ... um ... an ... empty book. With white paper.”
“An empty book??”
“I can’t say any more,” I said, and zipped my lips to show her it was a secret.
Then Mom wanted to take my temperature.
This is what I wished for, besides you, diary:

        a trip around the world
        a live alligator
        a white tuxedo
        a hockey video game
        a lawbook with all the laws in it
        a whistle

And this is what I got, besides you, diary:

        a bus-trip to go see my cousins Anna and Sophia
        an inflatable crocodile
        a woolly hat with a reindeer on it
        two hockey video games (because Mom didn’t know that Dad had bought one and vice versa)

        a painted pine cone
        a whistle

         It’s a good thing I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I probably would’ve just gotten the woolly hat.

Ciao for now,

 brown cow!

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