Turkey Leftovers

I posted this last year, and it is SO HILARIOUS it deserves to be posted again. I have made a few editorial updates (not noted). Enjoy!
(More Europe updates eventually...)

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A few years ago, I accidentally stumbled upon this website, showcasing a 2nd grade classroom's collections of poems about The First Thanksgiving.

What I can discern from these poems is that the class all heard the same version of the Thanksgiving story. And, for reasons we shall perhaps never understand, this version involved beer.

When the poems were all written, one of the room mothers decided it would be a good idea to post the poems to the Internet. So that some single, childless, snarky blogger could post them on her personal blog several years later.

Thanks, "Alex's Mom."

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First of all, we have the title:

Title

I'd like to point out that this lovely artistry is circa 2003, not 1993. I shudder to think what "Alex's Mom"s MySpace page might look like.

But on to the really good stuff.

Here we have a very good example of the kind of average poem the class produced:

Mayflower

And when I say average (sorry, Arianna), I simply mean there is no drama or hyperbole or random Thanksgiving wish. Blah blah blah food, Pilgrims, Mayflower.

Although Arianna did pick up on a couple details that several other children in the class also noted: namely, that the Pilgrims "had to" drink beer and also that they went the wrong way.

Again, I'm not sure what version of the story these children heard, but when you put "beer" with "went the wrong way," I get the distinct impression that we are talking about drunk driving. Uh, where was that story when I was growing up?

PARTY ON THE MAYFLOWER!

1st Drunk Pilgrim Named John: Hey, John? [hiccup] JOHN! Get o'er here. Hey. Hey, John? You know I love you, man. And I don' wanna upSET an'one, but-- Whoa! I love your hat you know that? How'd you get that buckle to shine like that? John I got a concern. I kin'a feel like maybe when we were jumpin aroun' out here in the togas -- dude, we gotta do that again -- but I'm not sure the auto-captain worked so good, you know what ahm sayin? Like look, look. There. Does that look kinda NORTH to you?

2nd Drunk Pilgrim Named John: TOGA! TOGA!

Seriously, that would have made for a much better filmstrip when I was in grade school. Mayflower gone all Animal House.

Anyway.

Danielle's take is a little different. No absence of drama here:

Squanto

Danielle seems to have something of a rescue fantasy going on. I picture a Harlequin-esque romance novel with Danielle's name and a Fabio-looking Squanto on the cover. I'd call it, Squanto's Salt.

This next poem by Treimane is especially lyrical if you read it aloud.

Too Many Turkeys

At first I thought Treimane was just phoning it in with this one, but once I recited it for a roomful of people I understood its true genius. Try it.


I think perhaps Anthony is having a little trouble keeping various traditions straight.

I Eat Turkey

Good luck with that, Anthony.

And in case you're wondering, my Thanksgiving wish is that I wake up the day after and know where my bra is. (Uh, especially as I'll be at Ish's parents' house. Ahem.)

An excerpt from that post-Thanksgiving entry, which you should also totally read:

My bra's location was eluding me, and so began the unfortunate, morning-after game of trying to convince myself I'm a grown-up while also trying to remember where I've left my underwear.

But now we come to my favorite group of poems, which amuse me in wholly inappropriate ways since I'm pretty sure all of these children have some serious mental and/or emotional issues.

These are children I would fear.

Take Mike's for example:

Turkey Legs

Sure, I'm projecting, but if you read this in a Hannibal Lechter voice -- especialy the "ha ha" part, this poem is very, very creepy.

Use that same calm, terrifying voice to read this one and it's even creepier:

Turkey Goes Wils

The turkey would never let us out of here?

I notice that Garrett has used the word "out" three times in five lines. I feel like Garrett has an underlying sense of need to escape. Perhaps from the voices in his head.

The turkey! The turkey wouldn't let me out! It wanted to keep me trapped! TRAPPED. It was never going to let me out of here. SO I ATE IT.

But my all-time favorite is this gem by Evan:

Run Turkey

Evan here seems a little...conflicted.

I get that it's hard to reconcile the whole cute-pretty-feathers-gobble-gobble part of the turkey with the delicious, slathered in gravy and potatoes part of the turkey. Still. "In my belly you are cute"?

Eh, I guess there are worse notions.

* * * *

So those are my Thanksgiving Day highlights. Because if making fun of 7-year-olds doesn't say Happy Holidays, I don't know what does.


Comments

  1. Thank you. That just made me crack up. I've been sick for a few days now and I needed something to perk me up!

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  2. You just made me laugh out loud-by myself. Thanks for that.

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  3. Thank you! You brightened up an otherwise pretty bad day!
    xoxo

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  4. You should have seen me sitting at my kitchen table with my late supper on one side, the stack of papers I have to get through on the other, and this blog right in front of me making me laugh until I almost fell off my chair. That Evan - he's my favorite!

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  5. Ahahaha. I am laughing out loud to myself over here. That was hilarious. Awesome post.

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  6. Wow. How do you react to those last few creepy poems when you're their teacher?!

    Trying NOT to snort with laughter in my office right now. haha.

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  7. OMG - these just cracked me up!

    Kinda creepy to think that some of these little darlin's may be the future leaders of our country . . . ^-^

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  8. Oh Kristy, I LOVE you.

    I might get fired for laughing out loud at my desk while I'm supposed to be doing client follow-ups (my boss just asked me why my eyes were all watery - I'm laughing my ass off, DAMN IT!), but I love you anyway.

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  9. OMG. Squanto's Salt. I think I just laughed so hard I peed a little.

    Do these kids get a free visit to the school guidance counselor too? I wouldn't want to be trapped in a dark alley, is all I'm saying. I'm thinking it might turn sort of Lord of the Flies...

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  10. I guess, in some sense, I should be offended or outraged by this, seeing as I have a seven year old daughter.
    Then the reality hits that it's kind of ok to make fun of them because they really do write stories like this.
    To make up for my lack of outrage, I feel that I should say "I am the lucky one who wakes up to find letters and stories like this stuck in my laptop atleast three times a week."
    Happy Thanksgiving!

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  11. That last poem sounds alot like an Engrish traslation of something that totally made sense when it was in another language.

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  12. bianca, you are TOTALLY right! here is my translation:

    Original:

    Run turkey run
    Because we will eat you.
    We are starving.
    In my belly you are cute
    I love you.


    Translated:

    Bountiful turkey,
    We understand if you do not wish to sacrifice yourself for us.
    But my people are starving, and we must be nourished.
    We are grateful for you, and
    as our meal, you delight us.
    Thank you.

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  13. Positively delightful. Thanks for that.

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  14. I am at work reading this and trying to contain the laughter building up in my throat. People must think I'm high. Too funny!! Kids are weird...

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  15. Hilarious!

    I also noticed that "Alex" and "Cindy" were copying off each other. Their poems are very similar. The phrase "chop the crops" tipped me off...

    Those cheaters!

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  16. I can't stop laughing. Thanks for sharing.

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  17. oh my god i laughed so hard i cried ... from the hannibal poem onwards.

    dankje wel.

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  18. Surely making fun of 7 year olds says 'happy holidays' Love it.....But didn't get the genius of the 1-12 turkey poem, I must be dense

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