Two weeks ago, Andre's English tuition teacher assigned him this writing task - to write a poem about his mother. It was actually intended as a present for Mother's Day but since Mr Procrastinator never got around to doing his work till yesterday, it came belated.
It was a task that flummoxed him, since he'd never written a poem in his life. After much whining (and some pleading with his sister to give him some "clues"), this is what he came up with:
My mother is the best
She never takes a rest
She likes to read a book
And she is a good cook
She is so loving
And also so caring
She makes us laugh
And she is part of hedgehog's staff
She is very smart
And she can create a piece of art
She is very nice
She likes to give advice
I know it sounds incomplete. This is because he was supposed to write 10 verses (which I thought was rather ambitious of the teacher) but he declared himself brain dead by the time he had churned out 3.
It was finding words that rhyme that he found terribly tough. In fact, for the last line, he had a couple of alternatives: "She doesn't like mice?" "She has a lot of lice?" Obviously my threats to throttle him made him reconsider the latter.
William Blake he is not, but it's still poetry to my heart ♥
Andre is such darling! I'm torn between wanting J to grow up (already!) and wanting him to stay the darling precocious youngest of the family.
ReplyDeleteYin: I know!! How to reconcile this contradiction? I think we'll still be babying them when they're 40!
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