A letter from the teacher

Just how much does people know about your family? Leave it to the kids to tell them. Yesterday, McKay brought home an envelope from her teacher. I pulled it out and there was a post it note reading "I thought this was hillarious. I just adore Mckay. What a spirit she has! I'm glad I'm no the only one raising a drama queen." Signed, her teacher.

I unfolded the paper and this is what it said (McKay's words)

My writing assignment

"I tried to clean my room. But then my sister came down and started bawling because I was picking up our toys. Then she went and hid and I continued to clean. My dad was upstairs on the computer and heard her crying. He called her and then she told him what I was doing. Then I started crying and hid. Everytime Kirsten tried to come in I would yell 'Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Out!' Then she told my dad what I was doing (again). My dad called me and I didn't go. He called me again. This time I put a blanket over me. My dad made me take it off though. I had to go up. I hid on a stair and I started crying again. Then I went in and called Kirsten a big fat tattle tale. I started arguing and called my dad a FIVE HEADED PIG EATER! Then my mom started laughing [I will insert here and say that Jake was egging her on. He was provoking the matter.] I called my dad a five headed pig eater because he said cleaning my room was not service. I had to do service for homework from school. But doing this gave me an even more bad day. (At school when I was coming home, I ran into a boy in my class and hit his forehead with my nose.) So that gave me a bloody nose. I got it on my white coat too. My nose is still sore. After I called my dad a five headed pig eater, my mom took me. She told me to brush my teeth. I said when Kirsten was out I would. After the prayer, I did my service. I unloaded the dishwasher. So I got my homework done. In bed I wrote this paper. I didn't want my mom to catch me because she would take my lamp away for a week. My mom had turned on the radio. As I was listening, the radio said reading in a poor light would not damage your eyes, only strain them! My mom said it did damage them. So I went upstairs to tell her. I told her I wanted a hug. Then I told her. She laughed. She was eating a popcicle. She took a bite and I started eating the rest. My dad caught me of course. Then I said I had a headache in my nose. He gave me Tylenol. I went downstairs to right this story. I'm glad reading in poor light doesn't hurt your eyes. P.S. It is true!"

I couldn't help but smile. (McKay is my one child that when she is tired, she can't handle any bit of stress. That is why bedtime is so important at my house.)