Uncle Pancreas #AtoZ #atozchallenge

I love teaching gifted kids because they have a sense of humor unlike the kind one would find in children from a regular classroom. Years back, my students wrote and acted in a play that had the adults in the audience rolled over in stitches while most children thought the skit was "stupid." My young Einsteins  obviously hit upon adult humor that was so far over the heads of the normal sixth grade class, that age peers didn't enjoy it. Only one kid in the class found their skit funny. He was the child on my referral list who I placed a few weeks later. Yep! I knew this student was gifted when I saw him chuckling with the adults.

To illustrate some quick wit from gifted students, here is a recap of a scene that took place in one of my classes some time back.


circa 2000: Intellectually Gifted kids provide interesting material. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

     "February means Black History Month, so here's a game of Jeopardy to test your knowledge of famous African Americans." I divided the class into teams. 

     Meredith upped the interesting factor of our game when she said, "Politicians for fifty."

     I flipped the card and read, "This General currently serves as Secretary of State."

     "Who is Collin Powell?"

Call Me Uncle Pancreas!

     "The name is Colin!" Jason snapped.

     "Uh, gross. I don't like names that sound like body parts, so I'm calling him Collin."

     "Really? Why don't you like body part names?" Jason said. "I have an Uncle Pancreas."

Tune in tomorrow for the letter V, which is all about Vic (one of the funniest guys I know).

Eat Your Gestapo (Six Sentence Sunday)

As part of Six Sentence Sunday, http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com, I've been challenged to post six lines of writing today. These six lines are from my unpublished novel, Being Bompsy Carleffa. Ben and Fiso, the crime boss father who Ben had just met, have a bit of a communication breakdown at the dinner table. I've edited my work from its original version to fit the six sentence challenge.

            After Gil placed a tomato-base soup in front of each of us, I blew on the spoon and took a sip of cold liquid. All this money, and these people couldn’t heat the food.

            “Do you like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked.

            I dropped my spoon on the table and wondered why he'd mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sick; this guy’s really sick!

Thanks for tuning in. I'll catch you on Monday when I explore the letter U and Uncle Pancreas!

Taunting Siblings #AtoZ

Most people know that the majority of U.S. presidents were first born children, but I bet you didn't know that most comedians were born last. So, since I'm four positions down from the presidency, I guess I'll continue to write my humor blog. Today's post features those taunting siblings that I'm lucky enough to have grown up with.

Sweet, Defenseless, Little Girl 
Being Viciously Attacked by Older Sibling

Being the baby of the family had it's pros and cons. On the bright side, no one made me wear dresses to school everyday while insisting I was too young to shave my legs. Also, I didn't have to beg, pray, or bake a German Chocolate Cake to get my ears pierced. I simply asked once and went to a gynecologist to get it done. You read that right. Twelve year old me sitting among the pregnant women and taking in evil glances from assuming folks. I also got to go to camp, France, and anywhere else I wanted because my sibs had broken in my parents big time.

On the negative side, I wore a powder-blue, polyester gym suit that said, "BEP" on the front because $7.00 was too much to pay for a pretty red one with my own initials. Plus, four positions down the birth order meant I had to search hard to find the one accomplishment that no one had done before. Would you believe I found it in sports? How original! But worst of all, everyone remembers all my little kid embarrassments, but I have nothing on them! Except the ability to report their various abuses.

Don't Look Up, Barb!

 Barb used to pay me 20¢ to go to the A & P store after school everyday. I'd buy one candy bar for her and get whatever I wanted for myself. After five years of that, we both weighed in at a whopping 470 pounds, but boy was that chocolate great! As for taunting me, she wasn't totally innocent either. She once backed me into a corner with a whip she'd won at the carnival. It's okay. After I fetched her a bone in my mouth, she left me alone.

Look at those red tights!

As for Bev, she reads my blog so I shouldn't tell you how she pinched one of my boobs and told me that it would be smaller than the other one. Thanks to Bev, I have to special order all my bras. One side's an A while the other is a Double D. Dang! Dang! Why'd she pinch me? She used to love to push my gullible button too. In fact, she told me she was going to give me a shot and pulled out a bottle of alcohol. That's okay too. I simply fainted and Mom screamed, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"

Even though these three have sometimes caused me grief, I feel sorry for only children who never learn how to be good fighters. So this one's dedicated to those taunting siblings. How did your sibs torture you?

I'll see you tomorrow when I participate in the Six Sentence Sunday challenge. http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com