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“Kids, you can’t beat them. Especially where it shows.”
I stopped off at St. Dominic to pick up Cindy last Wednesday right after school. I was surprised to find her rolling around the office while laughing her head off.
“Poor old girl. She’s finally lost it,” I thought.
I immediately took charge and said, “Get off the floor. Your clothes will get dirty.”
“I’m not on the floor. If you’d pay your bills down at Dr. Cecconi’s you could get your eyes checked, deadbeat.”
“Oh, John Cecconi’s got enough money to burn a wet elephant. If I had a wet elephant, I’d run over to his house and show you right now. He doesn’t mind spotting his more unfortunate brothers for a few months. What’s so funny, anyway?”
Cindy handed me a paper and said, “Take a look at this.”
“What’s this? The handwriting is so childish and English so bad I can’t even read it.”
“What? Let me see that. Oh, I’m sorry that’s the note you left me this morning telling me we need more oatmeal. Read this one instead. Amanda Carney was substituting for Margaret Chelf today. She had the kids write a paper about their parents. Amanda brought this down just for me to see. Jenny wrote about you.”
“Well, well. I’m glad to see she’s developed such a superior intellect to know great writing material when it’s before her.”
“Uh, yeah. Sit down and read it.”
By Jenny Begley
My dad has black hair with a white strip down the middle like a skunk. He has a very bad temper but can also be very funny. Hmmmm, I wonder where he gets it from. Every morning he gets up on the Nordic Track for about an hour and wakes everyone up.
His eyes are brown, and when I look in them, I sometimes think I see the devil. He enjoys making jokes about Mr. (deleted by my lawyer Bill Robinson to prevent lawsuits). My dad is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, well, sometimes.
My dad, like, always wears these big sweaters. Doesn’t he ever get hot? He also eats the nastiest food for lunch: oatmeal! Yuck!
Every day he comes home from work and always asks me how school was, and I always answer, ‘horrible.’ Who likes school? It’s fun for the teachers cause they watch us do the hardest work they can find. But right after I say the word horrible, my dad stops listening. I can’t believe it.
“Did you say that Amanda gave only you Jenny’s paper?”
“That’s right. Just me. Why do you ask?”
“This is a photocopy.”
“Did you make a few copies of this?”
“What the heck did you want 150 copies for? This is pretty embarrassing?”
“I needed some for the staff and the Wednesday folders to send home to all the families in the school.”
“Oh, relax. I just made up 20 copies for all the school staff. For some reason they all wanted one to take home with them. Feel better now?”
To be honest, it didn’t make me feel any better.
So in case you’ve seen one of those 20 copies floating around town, I thought I might give a true interpretation as to what my dear little Jenny was really attempting to say about me, but her meager education did not let her fully express.
By Jenny Begley
(assisted by Dad)
My dad has black hair with a few small flecks of distinguished white mixed in. He is very spirited in nature, but is funny, and frequently compared with comedy legends Mark Twain and Will Rogers. Hmmmm, I think he gets that from his very high intellectual ability. Every morning he gets up on the Nordic Track for about an hour and tries to be very quiet so he doesn’t wake anyone up. He’s always very considerate that way.
His eyes are brown, and when I look in them I can see his devilishly good looks that made momma fall in love with him. He enjoys making jokes about people but is always “just kidding.” How can you tell? If you are mad and about to sue, then he was “just kidding.” My dad is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, well...always.
My dad always wears these big sweaters because they are very fashionable and go well with his classic Irish profile. He always eats the healthiest foods, and not just because they are cheap.
Every day he comes home from work and always asks me how school was, and I always answer horrible. Who likes school? It’s fun for the teachers cause they watch us do the hardest work they can find. But right after I say the word horrible, my dad stops whatever he is doing to listen and solve all my problems. I can’t believe how wonderful he is!
Well, I guess that just about clears up any misunderstandings.
Hey, I wouldn’t mind getting back those photocopies.
You know, just something I can put in the cedar chest and look at in my old age.