The Tale of Sand Pit | Venus Trapped in Mars || Dallas
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06 June 2013

The Tale of Sand Pit



It is fourth grade Monday morning. It also just so happens to be pet week.  Every student gets to talk about their pet in front of the class for 10 minutes. If you want to bring in pictures you can, or tell stories or even bring in a bag of their crap to show off. Totally up to you. 

At recess that day Mrs. Huffer pulls me aside and asks if I want to be skipped on Thursday since I don’t have a pet. Well, not only has she now embarrassed me on the playground in front of the other students but she's calling me out for being a pet-less, poor child. I think there was a religious slur in there somewhere too. I’m 99% positive she said down with Catholics.

So just like any kid would do in this situation I said, “Oh no, did you not hear? I got a puppy a few months ago! He is blackish, brownish, reddish, whiteish—well he is very colorful. Many colors.”

“Oh! That is wonderful Sarah. What is his name?” she just had to ask.

“His name?” I frantically look around for inspiration. “His name is uhh, Sand Pit! Yeah, Sand Pit. I originally named him Four Square, but Sand Pit fits his personality better. He is just precious and I love him and he loves me too and we are best friends.”

Fail.

“Oh Sand Pit. What a unique name. Ok, well I look forward to seeing pictures of him and hearing about him on Thursday.”

A few days pass and before I know it, it is Wednesday night. How am I going to find a blackish, brownish, reddish, white-ish pup by tomorrow morning? A light bulb goes off. Stuffed animals!

Thursday morning rears it's ugly head. It is my turn to present Sand Pit to the class. 

“Sarah? Are you ready to tell us about Sand Pit?” Mrs. Huffer asks.

I slowly and sadly walk to the front of the class with my stuffed animal in hand, dragging his legs dramatically. I had been rubbing my eyes constantly all morning for effect.

“This was Sand Pit’s favorite toy.” I say as I force a tear to roll down my face. I couldn’t cry on cue but I could muster out a bit of fluid when needed. “Sand Pit died tragically last night. He was playing outside in the sand pit behind my house when a freak thunderstorm hit. He was killed by a bolt of lightning. My parents tried to give him CPR but it just was too late.”

I took a Kleenex I had stashed in my back pocket and pretended to blow my nose as a mouth fart sounded into the tissue. 

“Now Sand Pit is go-go-goooooooooonnneeeeeeee!” I screamed hysterically.

Man check out these gullible idiots, I thought to myself.

Everyone throughout the day asked how I was holding up and the teacher even gave me three bon bons at lunch to cheer me up. I ended up getting an A on the project, French candy and extra attention. Basically every only child's dream day. I just wish I could say the same for poor Sand Pit.

Life Lesson Learned: A harmless little white-ish, brownish, reddish, blackish lie will go a long way every once in a while. How do you think I made dean’s list?


I also guest posted on Back East Blonde today! Go check it out! 
Link up with me tomorrow for Fan Friday. You guys blew me away last week. 
I double dog Sand Pit dare you.
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