Why I Love My Dad
i informed him, in an e-mail, of my ongoing stupidity in my creative writing class: most recently we read a poem, that apparently, was about a daughter being abused by some spouse and making an apple pie for her father and her father notices the glasses but doesn't say anything and just shoves pie in his mouth. well i interpreted this wonderful piece of creative literature as the father hating the pie but eating it anyways because he loved his blind daughter (that's where the dark glasses come in)...whoopsies!
he informed me of his second grade mishaps: I never had to interpret a creative poem, but I did volunteer an answer once in front of the entire class when I was in second grade and never did it again. The Priest came to class at St. Phillips before First Communion and was quizing us on everything. He asked the class a creative question I was confident enough --- 100% sure I knew the answer- so I put my hand up. "Why do we always say Amen at the end of a prayer?" I was sooooo sure I knew the answer I yelled out " it means The End". Everybody laughed and the priest was very polite and said " sometimes I wish it did". I'm proud of you that you keep coming back with your own positive interpretation.
:o)
he informed me of his second grade mishaps: I never had to interpret a creative poem, but I did volunteer an answer once in front of the entire class when I was in second grade and never did it again. The Priest came to class at St. Phillips before First Communion and was quizing us on everything. He asked the class a creative question I was confident enough --- 100% sure I knew the answer- so I put my hand up. "Why do we always say Amen at the end of a prayer?" I was sooooo sure I knew the answer I yelled out " it means The End". Everybody laughed and the priest was very polite and said " sometimes I wish it did". I'm proud of you that you keep coming back with your own positive interpretation.
:o)