Friday, June 7, 2013

There's a Gator Under My Daughter's Bed

When I was a child, I hated my mother’s bragging about me. Not that she did it often, but when she did, I would always drop my gaze to the ground and feel my cheeks flush. I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal getting straight As and numerous awards. It all just seemed to come so easily, and I never really had a difficult time at school. What I dreaded the most were the adults’ questions that followed immediately after they’d heard my mom’s bragging. They’d always ask me silly, tricky questions I had to answer in order to prove that I really did earn my marks and prizes. It was uncomfortable and pathetic. I shouldn’t have had to prove anything to anyone. And that is why I swore I would never do anything even remotely similar to my kids.

I broke that oath.

Like any proud parent, I love to brag about my children’s achievements. It is indeed selfish, and I know it. But it, to some extent, proves that I’ve done something right. :o)
Today, I just must brag about my daughter, Viktoria. You know the saying, The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? Well, this apple seems to only have fallen right by the trunk. Viktoria brought home her collection of creative writing from school, and after I’d read through it, there was only one thing I could say: This girl has a gift! She is funny and her imagination is untainted.

Here’s one of her short stories.

 Alligator Under My Bed
Viktoria Cruz

You probably wouldn’t believe this, but I have an alligator under my bed. I have some big difficulties in the morning and when I want to play in my room. When I get up in the morning and step on the floor, the gator lashes out at my foot, but he always misses because I quickly pull it back. I have to literally jump out of bed to get to my closet. When I put on my clothes, the gator is always staring at me like he wants to eat me. Sometimes when I take a little snack to my room, he thinks I’m trying to lure him out. I can’t even watch TV because he ate the remote. I hate this alligator! He’s always making trouble for me. Every time I leave the room, he either rips up my clothes or bed sheets or tears the heads off my dolls. There is nothing worse he could do. Well, except eat me.

 How about them apples?

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