"Montraiiiiiiil- go bake some cookies for' I spank you!"
Yesterday I became moderately delirious with a fever while Abby and I were at Archer with my fourth graders. (For my Gold Award I’ve started a “Creative Writing Club” with the after-school kids - they are awesome.) For some reason I was like, “I don’t feel like writing today, let’s just tell stories!” And they all got really excited. Immediately through my delirium I remembered that Montrail (who’s rather Native Son/Bigger-esque) would probably say something totally inappropriate, like he did two weeks ago:
Me: Okay, today let’s write about our lives if we were famous.
Dalya: Ohhh, I’d be a singer!
Montrail: You’d be a stripper.
Me: Errgharneerg! What? Montrail, that is not appropriate at all.
-SILENCE-
Me: (upon realizing my opportunity to make an impression upon young girls) NO ONE HERE IS GOING TO GROW UP TO BE A STRIPPER, OKAY?!
Girls: Okay!
The first time I met Montrail the girls in the group were talking about noises they heard at night:
Montrail: Two nights ago I was lying in bed when I heard this voice say (*whisper*) “Montraiiiiil - kill yourselfffff!”
-SILENCE-
Me: Uhhh…
Ashlianet (yes, someone actually gave this name to a child): …Maybe it was your brother.
Me: (upon realizing my opportunity to make an impression) DON’T KILL YOURSELF! …. GO TO COLLEGE!
Yesterday Montrail told a ghost story. He said, “I can’t tell this story, oh man.”
Me (eagerly): Okay, someone else go.
Montrail: Okay, I’ll tell it.
Me: I don’t want any blood or guts. (Like in the story he wrote about stabbing a fat man, which made me nervous.)
Montrail: Then I can’t tell it.
Me: Okay, don’t. Someone else?
Montrail: Okay, okay, I’ll tell it.
New Girl Whose Name I Don’t Know: Umm, guess what, I can see dead people!
Me/Abby: (ignore)
Montrail: This is a true story. Every time I go to my granny’s she says, (*whispering*) “Montraiiiiil - go bake some cookies!”
Then he looks around at us with wide eyes.
Me/Abby: LAUGH LAUGH
Dalya: That ain’t a ghost story!
Montrail: Yeah it is!
Alea: Is your granny dead?
Abby: LAUGH LAUGH *uncomfortably*
Montrail: No.
Dalya: THEN IT AIN’T A GHOST STORY!
Montrail: (changes his mind) Yeah, my granny dead! Every time I go to her apartment she said, “Montraiiiil- go bake some cookies!”
Me: What kind of cookies?
Montrail:…chocolate.
Me: Mmm..
Montrail: My granny always talkin’. She said “Montraiiiil- before you watch TV you have to go bake some cookies!” She always say that. She say, “Montraiiiil- get up off dat couch an’ bake some cookies before I spank you.”
Me: …okay. Next?
Two minutes later Montrail tapped Abby on the shoulder.
Montrail: Miss Abby?
Abby: Yeah?
Montrail: I can feel something touching me.
Abby (looking under table): Where?
Montrail: …It’s my granny. She’s here right now telling me to go make some cookies.
Abby: Err…cool.
Oh, oh, Montrail.
Me: Okay, today let’s write about our lives if we were famous.
Dalya: Ohhh, I’d be a singer!
Montrail: You’d be a stripper.
Me: Errgharneerg! What? Montrail, that is not appropriate at all.
-SILENCE-
Me: (upon realizing my opportunity to make an impression upon young girls) NO ONE HERE IS GOING TO GROW UP TO BE A STRIPPER, OKAY?!
Girls: Okay!
The first time I met Montrail the girls in the group were talking about noises they heard at night:
Montrail: Two nights ago I was lying in bed when I heard this voice say (*whisper*) “Montraiiiiil - kill yourselfffff!”
-SILENCE-
Me: Uhhh…
Ashlianet (yes, someone actually gave this name to a child): …Maybe it was your brother.
Me: (upon realizing my opportunity to make an impression) DON’T KILL YOURSELF! …. GO TO COLLEGE!
Yesterday Montrail told a ghost story. He said, “I can’t tell this story, oh man.”
Me (eagerly): Okay, someone else go.
Montrail: Okay, I’ll tell it.
Me: I don’t want any blood or guts. (Like in the story he wrote about stabbing a fat man, which made me nervous.)
Montrail: Then I can’t tell it.
Me: Okay, don’t. Someone else?
Montrail: Okay, okay, I’ll tell it.
New Girl Whose Name I Don’t Know: Umm, guess what, I can see dead people!
Me/Abby: (ignore)
Montrail: This is a true story. Every time I go to my granny’s she says, (*whispering*) “Montraiiiiil - go bake some cookies!”
Then he looks around at us with wide eyes.
Me/Abby: LAUGH LAUGH
Dalya: That ain’t a ghost story!
Montrail: Yeah it is!
Alea: Is your granny dead?
Abby: LAUGH LAUGH *uncomfortably*
Montrail: No.
Dalya: THEN IT AIN’T A GHOST STORY!
Montrail: (changes his mind) Yeah, my granny dead! Every time I go to her apartment she said, “Montraiiiil- go bake some cookies!”
Me: What kind of cookies?
Montrail:…chocolate.
Me: Mmm..
Montrail: My granny always talkin’. She said “Montraiiiil- before you watch TV you have to go bake some cookies!” She always say that. She say, “Montraiiiil- get up off dat couch an’ bake some cookies before I spank you.”
Me: …okay. Next?
Two minutes later Montrail tapped Abby on the shoulder.
Montrail: Miss Abby?
Abby: Yeah?
Montrail: I can feel something touching me.
Abby (looking under table): Where?
Montrail: …It’s my granny. She’s here right now telling me to go make some cookies.
Abby: Err…cool.
Oh, oh, Montrail.