It was bound to happen…The wee one got into her first bout of “trouble” at school the other day.

Last night was one of those parent teacher conferences that me and the ex had to attend. I remember when I was a kid how I dreaded when my parents would come to school. It’s not like I had done anything “bad” or something but still, there was a certain nervousness that I recall entering my brain when that time of the school year arrived. You never seemed to know what a teacher might say about you behind your back to your parents. Maybe that was the beginning of my fear of the unknown. Who knows?

Anyway, the conference was to be held in the school library and I got there a little early. With some time to kill, I took notice of the surroundings and how much had changed since the times I went to grammar school. Everything seemed so…small. Oh, there were computers and educational games and the older classics and the newer classics adorned the bookshelves but somehow I felt, I dunno, out of place.

So there I was, wandering the aisles, glancing at titles, some familiar, some not, just killing time before my ex appeared and we could get on with the proceedings. It wasn’t long before she came in and we chatted for a bit about the upcoming holidays and how we were going to split the time with Anna and what to get her for Christmas and the usual things that parents talk about. Our conversation was cut short with the arrival of the teachers.

After the usual introductions were made, we were ushered to a table and handed a report card that listed the subjects and the accompanying grade. There was a period of silence as me and the ex looked it over and exchanged smiles about how well our little offspring was performing in both her academics and her social skills. I think we both shared a certain inner pride that comes when you see the good things that your kid is doing. After some perfunctory conversation with the teachers about what a joy it is to have Anna in their class and how well she’s performing one of the teachers said they’d feel remiss if they didn’t mention a “little incident” that occurred the other day. My ex and I exchanged wary glances towards each other and geared ourselves for the worst. After all, nobody ever imagines that their little darlings are capable of any wrongdoings and they tread on hallowed ground. It seems that the little one gotten had it into her head to play a practical joke on one of her friends. The little prankster had smuggled a tiny rubber mouse into the school and during lunch had somehow surreptitiously concealed the rubber rodent into one of her buddies’ bowl of applesauce. Apparently she had connived with some of her partners in crime to distract her victim and make her move when she wasn’t looking. The plot was hatched and it was executed to perfection. I guess when you’re ten, nobody likes to fall victim to a practical joke. Besides the shock value, I guess there’s this whole thing about being embarrassed in front of your peers and the blow to one’s pride about being the butt of a joke can take its toll… It seems that upon discovering the applesauce slathered mini-mouse, a kind of general hysteria broke out at their table. Apparently the victim let loose a scream that shook the rafters of the lunch room and turned heads at the other tables. Soon, there were tears and the threat of the victim losing her lunch loomed heavy on the horizon. The other kids tried to console her but the battle was lost. It took the comforting words of one of the teachers to bring peace to the proceedings. My ex and I assured the teachers that we would have a word with our darling little one about appropriate behavior in the future. To paraphrase our conversation afterwards…

“Bob, I have a confession to make. I saw her in the car with the mouse and she told me of her plan. It seems that this kind of thing is like a running gag amongst the kids and I didn’t think anything of it.”

I told her it was no big deal and if I recall correctly, things such as practical jokes were the norm rather than the exception back in our days. I don’t think the kid that was the victim was traumatized to the extent that she would never eat applesauce again or would have an inordinate fear of mice. If she had, we’d have probably heard about the incident earlier via a phone call or a visit from one of her parents.

I plan on talking to Anna tomorrow about the incident when she comes over for dinner. I’ll try on keep a straight face when I do but it’s gonna be hard. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. You can bet that I’ll also be keeping a watchful eye on my plate… From our table to yours, have a safe and healthy Thanksgiving with whatever loved ones you're blessed enough to have. Peace from the borgo household!

Tyler Evans
, Grade 3, Mrs. Baker's Class, Shady Grove Elementary
Vichizzle McNizzle, Pimp Daddy

Vichizzle: Hey y'all. What's happenin? With the holi-daze comin up, I'll be tellin ya a bit about the origins of the Turkey Day. Ya see, a long, long time ago, like back in the sixteen hundreds or some shit, this group of white folk, they all bein' opressed an shit by they King, right? Now some say it be about religions an shit, but akshully they all be trippin cuz they all bein persecuted for they weed, knowhaddi'msayin? Those white folks, the Pilgrimzz, they be wantin to get the fuck out of dat shit over there and do all the smokin' they want. So they all pile onto their big ol' boat, the mac daddy of boats, the Mayflower, and it ain't bout no flower, ya dig? That's what they call they weed back then.

Anyways, it be a loooong trip back then, from that European continent over to the Americas since they didn't have no technologies an shit, mighta taken like two months or some whacked shit like that. So them white boyz packed it up good. They needed plenty of dip for the trip, knowhaddi'msayin? So anyways, the Mayflower be sauce of the seas, big ol' par-tay on water. By the time they get over hur, they all be sufferin from a massive case of the munchies. Maybe one of the biggess they evah 'sperienced. Werd dat. So they be needin to satisfies they cravins and they prolly went straight up lookin' fo some grub. Then the Pilgrimzz meet some dark folks who all not be wearin much clothes an shit and be carryin big ol spears. Sure those white folks think the darker folks be savages an shit, but they needin' some grub, knowhaddi'msayin? So they be all like "we so hungry" an shit and they promise those Indians some of they weed. Turn out that the Indians had they peace pipes, so the white folk are like fuck yeah dawg, these people party, too! So they all gets togethuh and have one big fuckin' party, man, smokin they weed, puffin on da peace pipes, gettin high as fuckin I don't know what.

After dat, then they fuckin chowed down, knowhaddi'msayin? Those Indians, they all show them Pilgrmizz how to fuckin make popcorn an shit and cook they cranberreez and stuff they turkey. It be the shit, the mac daddy of dinnerz. A corn-hole-acopia. They all be thanksfull an shit, thankin they Lord fo all dat food an gettin to smoke they weed whenever they pleazes.

Tyler: This is my report on the very first Thanksgiving. A very long time ago a group of peeple called the Pilgrims decided they wanted to go to America because the King over there would not let them worship like they wanted to. My daddy says that they could not have the relijun they wanted and were being purseacuted. My daddy also said they wanted to get away from fags, too, because there a lot of those over there.

The Pilgrims traveled on a big wooden ship called the Mayflower. It was big and made of wood. They had to chop down trees to make it. Lots of trees. It took a very long time to get over here and a bunch of Pilgrims died before they made it. My daddy says it was probably only the fag Pilgrims that died because they were all sick. Anyway, when they got to America, at Plymouth Rock, they didn't have much food and did not know how to grow crops. So they met the Indians, a bunch of godless dumb people. But they did know how to grow crops, though, so I don't think they were as dumb as my daddy says. They showed the Pilgrims how to grow stuff and make popcorn. That is my favorite snack, by the way. But they didn't have caramel or cheese popcorn back then. It was just plain. But they liked it.

Anyway they all had a big nice dinner. The Indians welcomed the Pilgrims and the Pilgrims were thankful that they had all that help so they gave thanks. So that is why it is called Thanksgiving. Oh and the Indians didn't have fags, my daddy says that was the one good thing about the Indians.

After the big meal, the Pilgrims tried to talk to the Indians about Jesus. Since the Pilgrims were finally free of pursecution they could talk about their relijun all the wanted. The Indians that didn't listen were shot by the Pilgrims and the Pilgrims also built cabins on their land so then they didn't have any more nice meals together.

Vichizzle: After they be smokin their shit an eatin their munchies, they feelin mighy amorous, ya dig? So then they decided to celebrate Spanksgivin, right? Yeah, those white boyz be lookin at all them barely dressed Indian hotties and they all be wantin to get a piece of dat action, knowhaddi'msayin? They wanted to tap dat Indian ass. So they were all like turnin those Indian bitches over they knee and givin them good spankins for bein such naughty savages. And the Indian bitches, they be all like "oh, oh, spanks me hardah you big white boyz!" Straight up. Vichizzle not be lyin to ya yo. I knows my shit. And then the white Pilgrim bitches, they all get to suckin that big Indian cock, cuz wit them white boyz all the time, they ain't never seen cocks so big. So they be suckin, the white boyz and the Indian bitches be fuckin, and it all be one big fuckfest, werd. Eatin, smokin, and fuckin, that be the first Spanksgiving, yo.

Tyler: Since the Indians didn't like the white man any more, since the white man took their land and didn't like how the Indians worshipped all their false gods, they started killing the white men. My daddy says they were like animals, how they cut the white peoples scalps off. So the white men had to shoot Indians whenever they saw them to protect themselves. So cept for the first Thanksgiving, there were no more Indians at the rest of the Thanksgivings. This Thanksgiving we are going to Grandma and Grandpa's house and my daddy likes going over there because there are no black people in that neighborhood. Anyway were are going to eat lots of food and watch football while the women clean everything up. Thanksgiving is fun!

11/24/04 == 12/20/04 == 12/21/04 == 12/30/04 == 01/31/05 == 02/10/05 == 02/14/05 == 05/18/05 == 07/25/05 == 09/01/05 == 10/24/05 == 12/22/05 == 07/20/06 == 10/31/06 == 02/07/07 == 07/13/07 == 12/18/07 == 9/17/08

Today I asked Audrey to marry me. She said yes!

This makes me more happy than you can possibly imagine.

So, what's going on in Al's life?

Well, I finally got a new job, this time at Global Fulfillment Services. It's essentially the same work I was doing before, but with lower pay (albeit a lot closer to both home and school than the Glendale REC). And I'll be working 8PM to 2AM, but I had even shittier shifts at the REC at times. Doesn't matter; I needed a job, and now I have one.

And on that note, I've now bought two game consoles this week. The first was the Nintendo DS for $150, the second is a Dreamcast for $15. (Actually, I had a gift certificate from EB Games, so I managed to get the DC, three VMUs, Shenmue, and an unopened copy of Chu Chu Rocket! for $18 total.) I also got Super Mario 64 DS, which is fun. I know I've been noding videogames like mad lately, but I'm inclined to let somebody else do this one; I feel like whoever writes it up should be able to compare it to the original, which I never played.

My brother came down from Las Vegas for Thanksgiving late last night. It was kinda silly for him to do, since he has to be back there for work by Friday afternoon, but I guess he was lonely. And wanted some of our mom's world-famous knishes and cherry cheesecake. Seriously, she made about fifty extra just for him to bring back to Vegas.

I haven't really gotten a chance to spend much time with him. We played a round of Shark! Shark! (an old Intellivision game), and the whole family went to Charleston's for dinner (which was pretty mediocre), but that's about it. Maybe tomorrow afternoon.

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