Second Grade

Third grade. Mrs. Brown gave us a writing assignment to help her get to know us better. Write about two of your most favorite moments from the past years.

It was a dark and gloomy day. Rain had just fallen; the lingering clouds cloaking the school in gray. I sat at our meeting table, peanut butter jelly in hand.

“So Joseph, how about we get into range of the girls’ hideout—not close enough for them to be intimidated and run—but close enough for them to hear our plans. You tell me to meet at our hideout, and I agree, and then we run towards it.”

“You want us to get caught?”

“No! Because afterwards, we’ll run toward the Wall-Ball wall, go behind it, and wait for the girls to ambush us. But it’s all a trap. That’s when we’ll run out and tag them.”

“Oh, that’s an amazing idea, man, let’s try it as soon as they let us out for recess.”

The plan worked perfectly. Both girls that overheard us were tagged, and they were pretty high-ranking ones. This was our first victory in Girls vs. Boys War II, a grand, year-long war of tag between the girls and boys of Salmon Creek’s grade 2. We were divided on who won War I, but I’m pretty sure it was us. And with this victory, the girls had a lot of work to do to catch up.

Mrs. Brown looked up from my paper. “This wasn’t a real war, right? You mean Girls vs. Boys’ Game.”

I was confused and embarrassed. It was a real war! But all I could muster was a red face and the slightest of nods.

“Just change that to ‘Game’ when you get the chance, okay? Okay, let’s continue reading.”

“Hey, Joseph, what even is the point of crayons? Colored pencils are so much easier to use, hold, have a lot more colors, and they can be sharpened.”

“I’m not sure, man, maybe someone likes them.” We got up from our coloring and asked around the room, seeing if anyone preferred crayons over colored pencils. The results: Colored pencils won 20 to nothing.

“Well, since nobody likes crayons, we should just get rid of them.” I said.

“Yeah, good idea. How about we send a letter to the president to get rid of them?”

“Ha, that could actually work. ‘Dear Mr. President, because no one likes crayons…’”

“I’m going to send a letter to him this week.”

“How do you even get to the president in the first place?”

“I have no clue, but I’ll figure it out.”

It turned out Joseph couldn’t figure it out. In a week’s time, we were still talking to each other about getting rid of crayons without sending any letters. Eventually, we both forgot.

“I like crayons.” Mrs. Brown said. “They’re fun to use from time to time.” Mrs. Brown was the first person I’ve ever met who liked crayons. Nevertheless, an adult. Crayons were for toddlers, or so I thought.

“You’re pretty good at writing, Pono. Just don’t make up stuff about real life, okay?”