Slice of Life Tuesday 2:
I thought it was a brilliant idea. February 14th: Impromptu lesson. Spur of the moment. Off the cuff. Aren’t those some of the best kind?
We have about 40 minutes left and we’d been working on an Op-ed piece, but in my brilliance, I’m feeling the love and I decide to run with Valentine’s Day.
First, I give a little background info on the historical context and origin of Valentine’s Day, because I can’t help but love that dark, tragic stuff. Then, I take off into, “true love,” with barely a segue.
Compatibility. How effortlessly couples complement one another. You’re the apple of my eye. The peanut butter to my jelly. This is where the genius comes in.
“Let’s brainstorm. Inanimate objects, things, ideas, which effortlessly go together. Without one, the other would be lost. Go.”
They ran with it: Milk & Cookies. Waffle & Syrup. Beach & Tide. Marshmallow & Fire. Sun & Moon. Frosting and Cake. Chips and Dip. Chicken & Kool-Aid.
“In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, choose a perfect pair and write a love letter, professing one’s undying love . You can write about how you interact, where you interact, how they make you feel, inspire you, how you could not bear to live without them.” The literary focus being personification and hyperboles, for justification’s sake. The self-serving purpose- to make me laugh.
Because I’m a team player, I go first and model Macaroni’s love letter to Cheese. Ahem. You might want to grab a tissue.
Darling, your silky pale skin is like a crescent moon, descending into the horizons of my creamy golden lakes. The way you soak in my apricot pool sets my heart on fire. Racing to envelop your curves, squishing through your canals. Oh, hear my trill… How I croon your name sweet Macaroni! My noodle, my heart. You complete me, my sweet pasta pet.
Pretty awesome, right? Ok, not exactly Shakespeare, but again, it was impromptu, modeling in front of the class, disclaimer or not, its truth.
Naively, in the moment, I failed to identify the subtle, raciness of my letter until the bell rang, and I read it to a couple of colleagues in the hallway while the kids were retrieving their book bags. Through the bangs and bustle of the locker activities I read, and it was not until I saw their raised brows and twisted smiles did I consider the steaminess of the context. When my co-worker whispered I should write for Play Boy, I really got worried. In my defense, I was writing in the moment. My students, apparently, were inspired. A few of the willing read aloud. I took the rest home.
Later that night, I dug out the batch of papers from my bag. Curious, but truthfully, I was not expecting anything profound. They wrote in 20 minutes. Profound? Maybe not. Proving to be the single- handedly, most hilarious assignment I had the pleasure of grading? Most certainly. These are just a few samples of the genius, sweet, naïve 11 & 12 year old sixth graders I have the pleasure of teaching this year. Here are three of my boys:
You are my soul mate. You sweeten up my milk. Without you, no one looks twice at me. They fill their glasses with orange juice instead. I feel so plain without you, your chocolate chips sweeten my heart. I could not imagine what I would do without your crispy goodness. I’m pale white without you! The cream in your middle sweetens the deal and your chocolate adds some flavor, So please, never stop dunking into me. It will do me a favor.
Hey 🙂 It’s Waffle! We’ve been in a relationship for about two months now. I just wanted to say Happy Valentine’s Day. You truly are the syrup to my waffle. You are oh so sweet and sticky. When we go shopping, you allow me to stick the things we buy onto you. I love you for that. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you today, but I am currently serving for the Navy. Hopefully, you’re not cheating on me with Pancake. The way you pour down the plate is so cute. You are so hot when you were in Aunt Jemina’s body. I miss you. Also, I attached to this letter some chocolate ships. I’ll see you soon!
I miss you. I can’t live without you and your sweet tender skin and your beautiful meat, sometimes crispy, sometimes grilled. I like how you’re cooked to perfection. How your sweet skin flows down with every bite in my colored juice. It’s perfection with you and me. We’re always a match. I love you, even though hot sauce tries to get in the way. I don’t care. No way.
P.S. Please don’t go with Hot Sauce! You’re the Anakin to my Luke Skywalker!
My girls mostly did “Heart & Key,” and, “Flowers to Garden.” Unfortunately, for this purpose, I cannot share them all. But… Personal favorite line from Key to Heart: “When I’m in your lock it reminds me that our love is just like it. That’s why a key has a lock. Your heart is all mushy inside because I’ve gotten to your soft part.”
Oh. There aren’t words. And there probably shouldn’t be. I made the executive decision that these racy little numbers are not to be submitted into their permanent writing portfolios, but I seriously could not keep the greatness hidden from the world. Their papers have been whispering sweet nothings in my ear for months now. I needed, desired, felt compelled, couldn’t-wait-a single-solitary-moment-longer, to proclaim my love for them.