Forget monsters. This house has a man with a weed whacker

Many of us grew up hearing ghost stories and have had worries about the monsters under the bed.
No, not me. I’m only 12 years old and have seen far scarier then any Frankenstein or King Kong.

I have been a witness to my father with a weed whacker.

He comes to tear down both good and evil. To kill the pesky weeds and to knock down $20 worth of plants. He stops at nothing to feel the power over the plants. Bwa ha ha ha ha!
Yes, I know that sounds really kinda pathetic, facing the fact that I’m far away from the gorilla in his city of terror. But my mother has put her blood, sweat and tears ( but mostly sweat ) into her gardens while I sat on my but watching iCarly.
So really, it’s for Mom. And for Dad facing the fact that HE WONT LISTEN TO ME WHEN I COMPLAIN. (Okay, and for the love of iCarly. But that’s not the point.)

Beware, my children. For if you be weed or plant, the man with the weed whacker is after you.

Bwa ha ha ha ha!! :)

School

OK, I wrote this a long time ago, but now that school has been out for more then a month, I thought you would like this. Enjoy!



Great. The day had just started and there is already a stain on my shirt and the janitor has yelled at a student. The bell just rang. Some kids may think of the first bell as a sign of starting a new day. Well, that does not mean that it has to be good. Really think about it. Math tests and grumpy teachers sound like a nice way of life? I think not.
First hour: Oh yikes! Is that an F on my math paper?? And why won’t that kid stop sneezing on me?!? Yuck! I think the guinea pig just puked!
Second hour: You have got to be kidding! This reading book is so hard a collage student couldn’t read it if they tried! Wait. We have to have it done by when?
Third hour: oh the joy of band. The crashing of symbols, the toot of the horn, and the drummers having a sword fight with their sticks. Will the teacher ever show up?
Fourth hour: social studies means playing catch with the globe and using the map as a doodle board.
Fifth hour: writing. Good class. Down side: half the kids
think it’s art and the other half don’t know what an adjective is.

Lunch: two words baby: FOOD FIGHT!

Sixth hour: science class. We have to go outside and find leaves for a project. Sounds fine rite? Wrong. We are up to eight on the snake count and I feel something squishy in my shoe.
Seventh hour: typing and computers. Typing: easy. Computer work: impossible. Also this computer is so old it first was run by a mouse on a wheel.
Eighth and last (halleluiah ) hour: the dreaded gym. Honestly, how many times can one get hit by a dodge ball?

Okay, I might have exaggerated just a little. But hay, non-working moms….. Have you ever considered home schooling?

Boys will be boys. Whether you like it or not.

Screech!" That’s mine! "Bang!" Mom!”

Yes, the sound of boys.

Whether we like it or not, the nature of little boys can’t be changed. It would be like that “Hairspray” song. You just can’t stop the beat. Or in this case, the boys.

No matter how many times a poor beanie baby gets used as a weapon, the boys are unstoppable. They will sneak up behind the other one, who the only thing they will hear is “ I’m gunna hurt you, you lousy little piece of…..!”

Now take a pause and think about life without boys. We could take our pets to prom, invent little robots to do our housework, and heath insurance would not be necessary. Ahh…..
“Ow! Hay, knock it off! Eep!”
And did I mention how useless a hearing aid would be?

But think of the down side. No romance movies, no omg-he-is-so-cute Zac Efron, no fun seeing the little suckers struggle with our laundry. And really, do you really want to kiss your pooch at prom?

I didn’t think so.

So the choice is up to us girls: lose them or love them?
Think about it.