The Creativity of Childhood

Guys, I found an old journal of mine.

I wish it were this old. 

I remember exactly who gave it to me, Ms. R, my first grade teacher. She gave it to me for my birthday.

This journal was also a great reminder that times have certainly changed when it comes to school. How do I know this?

Well, first of all the majority of teachers do not give gifts nor receive them anymore. Gone are the days where appreciating your teacher with token apples, coffee mugs, and ornaments were a given. 

Fuck you kid, quit showing appreciation. We don't like that here in 'Merica. Fucking brown-noser.

Another reason? My first grade teacher not only gave gifts, but birthday spankings as well. I cannot even begin to imagine the shit-storm of the century that would happen if some teacher spanked a child today, either as punishment or birthday tradition. I know for a fact that I'd be one pissed-off parent.

"But, you were hit on your birthday and are fine", you all say. Yes, I lived through the mortification, but I would never subject anyone else to go through that, especially my own children.

Anyway, off the podium on that one....but here is another podium-type topic.

The journal she gave me had cherubs on it and was purchased from a religious store. Oh, my. Are we ready to ring in the offended parents?

At this point in time I was religious...well, as truly religious as a 5-6 year old can be. I thought the journal was cute and didn't even connect it with religion until later on.

Would I, as an atheist, be super-offended if a teacher gave this journal to my child? Not really...because fucking cherubs are cute and not exactly super pro-religion. Now if a teacher gave my child a journal with Jesus' face....well that's a different story.

Again, off the podium on that.

The real reason I wanted to discuss this journal was the contents...because yes, children are crazy.

How can we protect them from themselves?

As I open the cover I am immediately bombarded with scribbles of tic-tac-toe. Only one actually looks viable, the rest are completely filled with O's. I am quite the cheater.

The next page has a square for filling in your name. I filled it in with 'Rachel's big christmas tree Rachel'. The final Rachel is neater than the others, leading me to believe that I came back at a later time to resign my name. Classy.

Surrounding that square are four names: Erin, Sarah, Lillie, and Carren. I remember three friends named Erin, Sarah, and Lillie (who lived next to the school), but I don't quite remember a Carren (who I'm sure did not spell her name like that).

Under those names is a list of words that I apparently thought rhymed at the time. I must have been studying up, even though half the words aren't real:

Look, Zook, Mook , Nook

Cake, Make, Zake, Snake

Zoom, Room, Noom, Coom, Koom, Moom, Croom (those are all classy)

Onward to the next page where I am bombarded with terrible drawings of a half naked child walking away, Mary singing to baby Jesus, a toddler crawling, and other things I can't quite comprehend. You don't get pictures!

Ooh, yay! A story is next:

There was a cottage that a little girl lived in her name was Rachel, (insert last name) One day the little girl Rachel came out to play she played over the hills she played a drum she went back inside she played with her toys then she ate Dinner then she Watched T.V. The day before christmas Rachel decorated her tree then she put up her stocking The End

How beautiful. At least I spelled everything correctly. That gives me hope because everything else is just...well fuck. 0/10 points for that awful plot. Where is it going? Why the abrupt ending? At least I knew to capitalize my name, although I'm not sure why young me thought first and last names were separated by a comma. And holy run-on sentence, Batman. Periods, bitch. You understand? And what is over the hills? What kind of fucking game is that? And why are dinner and watched so important they need to be capitalized? Why is christmas so unimportant that it doesn't need to be capitalized. What? And I should also note that when I wrote 'her stocking', I had originally wrote 'their' stocking. Young me gets props for understanding pronouns a little.

Okay, next page!...Oh, another story. Goody. Hopefully I do better.

There was a girl her name was Lillie she put up her tree I will be back

So...nope. No better on the punctuation and plot. Why am I obsessed with Christmas? It must have been Christmas when I wrote these 'stories'. And 'I will be back'? Seriously, young Rachel? Seriously?

I will let you all know that I did come back...to start a new story.

There was a boy his name Was Michael The, End

Fucking gorgeous. Just gorgeous. Capitalized was, but spelled Michael right. Added a comma between The and End. No fucking period.

Oh wait, it wasn't the end because the next page...

When Michel got up his tree had Presents under it's stem the End

So now Michel is spelled incorrectly and Presents are apparently the most important. Damn it, I was doing so well with 'The End'.

I just noticed the pages are also numbered. Awesome.

Next page! Drawings on a half woman, half tree creature.

                                              Sexy is a sexy does.

Next! A tree with a bird and beehive. It's actually fairly decent for a child's picture. What...

And then...another story! Only this time I'm a full-out plagiarizer. I copied, word for word, the Bears in The Night - Bernstein Bears story. Lovely, little me. Ready to work in a fast-food joint?

Now I'll just pick and chose interesting pages.

Page 22: I am....... (followed by indistinguishable scribble)

Page 23: Ra.... (followed by indistinguishable scribble)

Those two are the most beautiful fucking pages. 

Page 24 is fucking stellar. It contain these words, "thair oeca was", then follows with a picture of a lady in a long skirt and bra. 

See how that whore dresses? Fucking whore.

Page 25: Picture of a girl in a long skirt, wedge sandals, and a sailor shirt. She is sporting a hair style that would require more hair than any human would possess.

Who is a sexy chick?

Page 26: An apparent imp dancing around a tree. I'm assuming that he is chanting to the Dark Lord, Lucifer. 

Page 28: Two mittens (one that looks old, and one that looks like I went back to challenge myself - like with the opening name page)...also, two crowns following that same pattern.

Page 29: Another horrifying woman.

I'm sexy and I know it.

Page 33: A dragon Scooby Doo? Maybe?

Page 37: A face...thing.

Page 39: Another face...thing.

Page 41: Another, another face...thing.

Page 45: Another, another, another face...thing

Page 47: I don't know, but it makes me want to cry

Just look at it. Look. At. It.

Page 49: A bride who just tossed a midget instead of her bouquet.

Page 55: This page is missing. It must have been embarrassingly juicy. What was it?!!!!

Page 56: Also, missing because it was the back of 55.

Page 60: This is actually a rather nice picture

Page 71: A mutant family. I like how I define the sex of the baby. It must have been important to me. 

Page 78: Dog in diaper. Actually I believe this was my babysitter's dog who was wearing diapers because she was in heat (of course I didn't know about that at the time).

Page 80: Because this is horrifying. 

Page 99: Fabulous. So fabulous. Dance motherfucker. Dance.

I stopped number at 120, presumably because I was retarded and couldn't count any higher.

But another story!!! This one written by my older brother, Michael.

See! Told you guys he was a psychopath.

Now a picture by Michael!

How sexy is that? Real sexy huh?

And finally, the end of the journal (more arty than wordy). The final page states, "I K", then a backwards money sign, then a normal money sign, the "good Job", and finally a picture of a grumpy face.

And this is why Rachel is crazy.