User:Jwang/Will sandbox/Jean Bear

First Grade Disaster
'''Chapt. I''' My name is Jean. I live with my father, my grand father, and my pesky little brother. I go to Nathan Hale Elementary. I am seven years old and in Mrs. Jeiter’s first grade class.

Today, Mrs. Jeiter said we were writing an essay or story on our weekend I didn’t really do anything this weekend. So I wrote abut the first thing that popped up in my noggin which was lakes and bears. Now that got me into real trouble because I didn’t know how in the world those two things were related. I searched through every part of my brain, even in the recycle bin part!

Fortunately, I found the information. It wasn’t in the general knowledge section; it wasn’t in the common sense (logic) section, but in the recycle bin. It’s probably the first out of I don’t even know how many useful information I put there. That’s the problem with me – I can’t see to tell apart useful information and garbage.

Anyway, the information I found was that one I caught on Animal Planet. It’s this eight foot bear teaching … what’s it again, pup? I don’t remember. Well, she was teaching it how to fish. I guess it isn’t that good of a topic but it’s better than nothing. Isn’t it (maybe it’s not.)?

Finally, about five seconds after I wrote my first letter. It was recess. I’m saved! My life is saved! Unfortunately, recess was ten minutes because this ridiculous boy named Peter started humming the ninth or was it tenth Symphony. The reason I hate Peter is because he keeps calling me “jeans” because my name is Jean.

The class silently trudged into the room all looking sick. I looked the sickest. I looked so sick the teacher sent me to the clinic. Luckily, I told her that I wasn’t sick. That would probably be the last time I did that because she started blabbering on and on about why you shouldn’t lie. It’s really boring listening to a teacher when she blabbers on and on about things that don’t matter. For example, lies. I don’t know why she started it because I hate blabbering teachers. Especially when they blabber abut me.

'''Chapt. II''' Finally, class was dismissed. The dismissal bell rang. I was ready to go home. The bad thing about me is that I have bad memory, see it’s the third month of school and I still don’t remember what bus I take. That’s bad because people like Peter tease you for things like that. I’ll never forget the day I took the bus to … see! I told you I have bad memory. I can’t believe I forgot what happened.

I hate my little brother he’s in Pre- K. his name is Joshua, but he goes by Joshy. Joshua Joshy is always here or there, he’s always whining about this or that, and he’s sneaky. You never know when he’s going to pounce on you. See, one day I walking to the park when Joshy brought me down with one big pounce.

Dad never does anything when Joshy pounces on me; he simply says you need more character. I’m not sure about the “you need more character” part. Because in the books I write have a lot of characters. Well, according to dad character in “you need more character” isn’t the same thing as the character as in this book I have a lot of characters. Grandpa doesn’t care either instead he just sits there drinking his cup of tea. When I ask him something he just gives me the look. FYI this is when you need the look, when the person you’re talking to is irritated or distracted. It always seems like Grandpa give you the look for no apparent reason.

At school these days no one really appreciates curiosity … and that’s including the teacher. You see one day one of “Naughty Pete’s” (We just came to call him that) friends were playing detectives. But unfortunately he ended up searching for clues under the teacher’s desk. He came out tangled up with a bunch of un graded papers.

When Mrs. Jeiters came in the room she was steaming. I could almost see smoke coming out of her ears, but she swallowed the anger. Then she screamed, which attracted the principle. Now that’s never good, right? Fine, fine, if you had your principal come in because someone was in trouble, you’d probably say that too.

'''Chapt. III''' The next day, our teacher announced that the essay was due tomorrow. That’s pretty bad for me because I didn’t even start. To add to that, I can’t afford not turning it in because my grades already bad enough. Well, at least it’s better than Pete and his gang’s. Now that’s a plus, see Pete and is gang have probably the worst grades in the whole school.

I should really stop my nonsense thinking and get to work, right? Okay fine, I’ll tell you the truth your answer would most likely be no, because you just want keep hearing about my crazy thoughts! But I’m the one writing the story not you! And, I say yes! So I did that.

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