What I did Last Weekend by Greg Metcalf

So I have to rush through this assignment and teacher will be so mad, so mad at me. Because my writing will be way too messy, they call it allegable. But mommy says I’ll be a doctor cause doctor’s they have writing that’s messy too, and allegable. My doctor’s got a thick voice and he smells like medicine and his hands are real dry and strong. Whenever I go to the doctor I get to have a sucker, but one time I went I didn’t even want one cause my throat hurt too bad. When my sister goes to the doctor she has sleepovers all the time. And when she comes home she’s always sleeping too and she doesn’t have to go to school cause mommy says she’s so sick.

But now I have to hurry. and I have to write real careful about what I did last weekend. We went to the zoo and Karen came too, but she couldn’t talk cause she had the mask over her face so she could breathe good, but mommy says that she was having fun because she was smiling. But she didn’t smile while the monkeys were fighting and yelling at each other cause I looked at her while I was laughing and she was just looking and breathing. My favorite part of the zoo was the penguins cause we had to go inside and watch them through the window and it was snowy in there where the penguins lived and the window was cold. I liked where the birds were too. There was a real tall fence that had a lid on it that you couldn’t see cause of all the trees so the birds can’t get out. We walked all the way through the path to the other side. It was real shady in there and all the birds were singing and making noise. That is how I spent last weekend.

Two quick stories about this one. I wrote this 12/30/02. I know because I dated it, but I also remember I’d gone to work early planning to write, but it was busy so one of the managers asked me to come on early (in about ten minutes). And I really wanted to wrtie a page, so I decided to “hurry” and came up with this kid rushing his assignment.

The other personal story about this one is that I kind of liked it and my dad was in town, so I handed my notebook up to him and invited him to read this. He did and didn’t say anything about it. I figured, Okay, that’s not one he particularly liked. He enjoyed a lot of my other early writings. That one just didn’t strike him. There was no other mention of this story, and then a few years ago, out of the blue, he commented that he really liked that story I wrote about the boy whose sister was sick.


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