So crispy, so tender

I've been short on blogging material lately. If you follow Don't Test My Gangster, then you know that either I've quit posting to it or my students aren't saying anything particularly funny this year. Unfortunately, it's the latter, so far.

I don't know if it's the group of kids or if it's me - but the ridiculousness hasn't been abundant this year.

Today, though, I do have something, but as it's too long for Don't Test My Gangster, I'm saving it here.

While we were working on parts of a short story and discussing Rudyard Kipling's Rikki-tikki-tavi, there was one young man who was concentrating particularly hard on his work.

"Gosh, he must really be GETTING internal and external conflict," I thought, as I watched him hover over his desk, head hunkered, eyes squinty with concentration. He was writing ferociously.

This was yesterday. Fast forward to today, when I found this - in his handwriting and on the orange sticky notes he was using....

Last year I found

baked beans on top of my house

and I ate them.

I got butter in my shorts.

So crispy, so tender

Got those BK chicken tenders.

Those crispy crispy bites

inside tender white meat briiiiite.

Got's to get me some,

Got that yummy yum.

CHEEEEEEEESE!

How come turkey bacon isn't crispy

Dad, da, da

Dada, I love to eat pie

Da, da, da, da, da

It helps me fly

Da da da da da

Dadadadadada

Remember how I said that 7th graders' brains are literally always in a really thick fog, kind of like they're constantly smoking weed?

I think I might take a mental health day tomorrow.