Horrible Harry

I always said I wouldn't blog about my kids. But I can't help myself. It seems unnatural not to talk about what I spend most of each day doing. Faithful readers (all six of you!) don't feel under any compulsion to read these posts.

Our second son, Joel (age 6.75), has always required more intense parenting than our other two boys. Perhaps because of this, and because he is a middle child like me and because he resembles members of my family, I feel a strong affinity to him.

School has not been easy for Joel. He has a learning issue which is slight compared to what many children have to battle, but significant enough to give me many anxious moments and load up the time I need to spend teaching him at home. One of the more amusing things we work on is story writing. I thought I'd share a couple of his latest. Note Joel's use of repetition and alliteration.



Harry is horrible

Harry is horrible.
He hates his granny.
He hates heather.
He hates everything.
He has head lice.
He has hot hits.
He loves the most disgusting word in the English language.




Horrible Harry's Dog

Harry's dog's name was Horrible. Horrible dug up the backyard and put dynamite into the holes. Harry was happy because the backyard was blown up.

"Hooray!" said Harry.

[over page]

"Irrrrr!" said Horrible.