We ended our back to school writing contest on Monday and from the feedback I've gotten, I think it's safe to say that we chose the right winner. Still, there were a lot of really solid submissions and I wanted to share a few of them with you as well. I might add a few more later in the week, but this one made me laugh out loud so I couldn't help but kick off with it.
Sorry, no prize for first runner up, except to know that your hard work will be appreciated by all of the Myachi Blog's loyal readers:
The Long Lunch Toss
“Aaaahh,” I whispered to myself, as I finally put down my backpack full of what seemed like bricks. It was made heavier still by all my Myachies. The first thing I heard from my teacher after unpacking is, “What do I not want to see until recess?”
The class responded, “Myachies!” This answer was a mix of my-achies (incorrect pronunciation) and me-achies (correct pronunciation.) Taking all this into account, I felt a little silly wearing a black shirt with jumping yellow letters that screamed, “MYACHI!”
Classes that day were how they always were… painfully boring. I did what I always do during banal classes… desk jam! I wasn’t about to stand up and start hopping around to foot jam. Myachi movements at my desk entertained me until lunch.
At lunch, I finished early, so I got a tiny bit antsy. One of my really good friends is also a Myachi fanatic. I had a jammer with me, so the urge to play Myachi was unbearable.
I whispered to my fellow Myachi Maniac, “We should play long-toss across the lunchroom.” To us, the oblivious plan sounded “insane,” as some people in the world of Myachi would say. I ran over to the complete other side of the lunchroom, took my Myachi out of the patented Myachi pocket, and did a quick Osis to make sure I was ready. I was.
“Huuaaggh!” I heaved Patchwork Blue across the entire lunchroom. My buddy stuck it with some difficulty. The next thing I knew, my Patchwork was returning. With a quick tug on my shirt, I trampolined the Myachi and caught it (on the back of my hand, of course.) My second throw was my last. When I cocked my hand back, it slipped a little bit. When I actually released the Myachi, it was on the side of my hand, so it slipped off and hit the most serious teacher in the school. (Just my luck!) That did it.
Every teacher in the school knows from previous experience that my friend and I are a bad combination. This woman had an absolute ZERO tolerance for us. I knew we were busted. She angrily bent over and picked the yummy jammer off the floor, trying to barely touch it in the process. I was positive she was going to keep the Myachi, at least until the end of the year.
The lunchroom fell silent. Even with all this in mind, I couldn’t help but crack up… completely. That definitely didn’t help my situation. She stormed over actually sounding like a storm. Her wide-heeled boots pounded on the tile echoing around the still lunchroom like thunder. Her eyes burned like lightning. Ironically enough, her name was Mrs. Storm. It completely captured her appearance.
I was tearing in my eyes, trying to restrain myself from laughing too hard. The next thing I knew, Mrs. Storm was screaming her head off at me. She was loud in the first place, but now screaming? I couldn’t even pay attention to what she was saying. Something about responsibility and what was I thinking. As if her fifteen minute lecture wasn’t enough, she sent me and my friend (who was laughing when I was) to the principal’s office, AND gave us a week of no recess.
After a visit to the principal (my pal, because I visit him at least twice a year), my friend and I had no recess for five extra days, making a total of ten recess days never to be recaptured. I also know that the school’s policy is that if something is taken away from you, you don’t get it back until the end of the year. I love my Patchwork, and didn’t want to have it taken away for months. Even though I was in big trouble, I could only think about what I was losing.
Ten days later, I decided long-toss wasn’t right for the lunchroom. “Too bad the classrooms aren’t bigger,” I thought. The next day for the hour long lunch, I got a little antsy again. The urge to play Myachi was unbearable (again), but there was NO WAY that I was going to play long-toss. I thought about my somewhat stolen Myachi. I won’t do that again. Ever. It tarnished my reputation, and even though I did get a minute of fun and a good laugh, I had learned my lesson. While I was thinking all of these serious thoughts, I caught the gaze of my fellow Myachi Maniac...
"High-toss?" I whispered.
"Insane!"
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