You’re back in eighth grade and your mom makes you sign up for Spanish so that you can be prepared to take Spanish I/Spanish II in high school, complete your foreign language requirement, and move on with your life. When I was in high school, I was the top student in my Spanish classes. Languages came naturally to me. But unlike his super talented foreign-language-learner sister, my brother despised Spanish. In fact, the only phrase he remembers years later from his invaluable Spanish classes is “callate la boca.” Also known as “shut your mouth.” I’m guessing he has heard this phrase one too many times.
There my brother is sitting in his eighth grade Espanol class, learning about flan and how people eat this nasty excuse for a dessert in Spanish cultures. Only 2 minutes ‘til the bell rings, yet time seems to be standing still.
“Flan doesn’t only come in vanilla.”
Tick tock.
“There is also chocolate flavored flan.”
Tick tooooooooooooooock.
“Personally, my favorite is vanilla, though. The texture of it is kind of like a custardy Jell-O. Hey, in fact, I think Jell-O has an instant mix of flan that even comes with caramel sauce!”
Tick toooooooooooooooooooooooooooock.
“I encourage you all to go home tonight and beg your mom to make you flan for dessert. Have her drop what she’s doing, have her go to the store, and buy instant flan mix. But…don’t tell her I told you to say that. Tell her that your education is very important to you and that if you try it you’ll get extra credit. TWO points extra credit!! Also, don’t forget, but your paragraph about your family is due tomorrow. Use your best Spanish.”
Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnng!
“Don’t forget, but you also need to include a drawing of your family!”
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Here’s a drawing not dissimilar to what my brother turned in:
A few days after turning in his masterpiece, the flan-loving teacher asked to speak to my brother after class.
She probably just wants to congratulate me on how life-like my drawing looks. Or, worse, what if she found out I don't really have a dog?? Dang it, I should have said I have a pot-belly pig, that would've been more believable!
“El Niño, I have a question about your project. In your About My Family paragraph, it says here, ‘Fartin’ Margaret is mi perro. Ella es fea y vieja. Ella no stop yapping. Ella is smelly a tambien. We want to put her down.’”
I bet she’s wondering whether I’m having a hard time at home because I have to put my “ugly and old” dog down. That’s gotta be--she's probably a very sensitive person and wants to know how she can help--what else could it be?
“Now, son, did you know that my first name is Margaret?”
“Uh…no…wow, hmm...what a coincidence."
Yes, but I didn't think YOU'D know the dog was a symbolism for you.
“Here’s your hall pass. The principal’s expecting you.”
True story. My brother hated Spanish and his teacher so he decided to bring the passive-aggressive approach into his homework. Yes, he turned in a picture of a hecka (we Californians use this word sometimes) ugly dog, named it Fartin’ Margaret (after her), and handed it in as part of his “Mi Familia” project, not thinking that she would notice the subtle attack. I guess he was probably thinking she would react in a fashion where she would be overjoyed to know that one of her student’s dogs shared the same name as her. I don’t know. All I know is that my brother is witty. So, if you want to pass your eighth grade Spanish class, you can add an imaginary dog/pig/cow/rat/whatever to your family. Just make sure its name is Loveable Margaret—NOT Fartin’ Margaret. You don’t want to get into a stinky situation.
A Pizza Cake!
A Fishbowl Cake!
A Hotdog and Fries Cake!
A Reeses Pieces and Popcorn Cake!
A Bumble Abominable Snowman Cake!
A Sweetarts Cake!
A Pyramid Cake!
