| Humor Non-Fiction posted March 11, 2024 |
  |
The apple didn't fall far from the tree
The Apple Of My Eye
by Marilyn Hamilton
My daughter, Sarah, began to show signs of creativity, as well as a love of writing, early in her life.
So, it it came as no surprise to me that, once she started school, her creative style blossomed at an alarming rate. I use the word alarming because her creative style was very similar to my own. All I had to do was remember the ways in which I chose to unleash my own creativity at her age. 'Alarming' would have been a mild word choice on my mother's part.
When Sarah was about eight years old, she wrote a poem for her Elementary school class that caused quite an upheaval during sharing time. It was at a parent conference a few days after the incident that her teacher brought the topic up with me. She mentioned that Sarah had presented a somewhat hostile version of the nursery rhyme, "Little Miss Muffet", to the class. The teacher was complimentary about the originality of the piece but was concerned about the message sent.
Sarah's updated version went like this:
Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet,
eating some ice cream and cake.
When along came a spider and sat down beside her...
so, she took off her shoe and beat the living daylights
out of that sucker.
THE END
I felt tears moistening in my eyes after the poem was read to me. Not tears of embarrassment or worry. Happy tears. Delighted tears. Tears that said, 'Oh my gosh, she is just like me! She thinks like I do. I can't imagine what I ever did to deserve this funny little miracle."
I assured her teacher that it was nothing to be upset about. In fact, I vowed to encourage further artistic expression in Sarah's future writings. I would help nurture this gift of hers, so that it would grow and bear wonderfully exotic fruit.
Her teacher seemed more concerned when I left than when I first arrived.
True Story Contest contest entry
My daughter, Sarah, began to show signs of creativity, as well as a love of writing, early in her life.
So, it it came as no surprise to me that, once she started school, her creative style blossomed at an alarming rate. I use the word alarming because her creative style was very similar to my own. All I had to do was remember the ways in which I chose to unleash my own creativity at her age. 'Alarming' would have been a mild word choice on my mother's part.
When Sarah was about eight years old, she wrote a poem for her Elementary school class that caused quite an upheaval during sharing time. It was at a parent conference a few days after the incident that her teacher brought the topic up with me. She mentioned that Sarah had presented a somewhat hostile version of the nursery rhyme, "Little Miss Muffet", to the class. The teacher was complimentary about the originality of the piece but was concerned about the message sent.
Sarah's updated version went like this:
Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet,
eating some ice cream and cake.
When along came a spider and sat down beside her...
so, she took off her shoe and beat the living daylights
out of that sucker.
THE END
I felt tears moistening in my eyes after the poem was read to me. Not tears of embarrassment or worry. Happy tears. Delighted tears. Tears that said, 'Oh my gosh, she is just like me! She thinks like I do. I can't imagine what I ever did to deserve this funny little miracle."
I assured her teacher that it was nothing to be upset about. In fact, I vowed to encourage further artistic expression in Sarah's future writings. I would help nurture this gift of hers, so that it would grow and bear wonderfully exotic fruit.
Her teacher seemed more concerned when I left than when I first arrived.
Free image: Vector Stock: Pinterest
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. 
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. Marilyn Hamilton All rights reserved.
Marilyn Hamilton has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.