Like blog training wheels

When I made the difficult decision a few years ago to sell my beloved truck to pay for private school, I knew it was the right thing to do. However, it was merely a parental gut feeling. I didn't have the metrics to back it up. And when you're shelling out an extra grand per month, you kind of yearn for some ROI. Any ROI.

And this is it:

And he only got one spam Post-It about best hot tub deals.Fury gets to experience the euphoria known as comments (I did say any ROI). From 3rd grade on, Fury's school throws a Publishing Party every few months to showcase students' narrative writing skills. They get to write about anything they want. Throughout the course of a few months, they revise, refine and polish their narratives. On the day of the Publishing Party, they print them out, invite parents over, and hand everyone Post-It notes and pens.

With juice, cookies and pens in hand, parents and students go from desktop to desktop, reading the stories and leaving comments via post-it notes. Kind of like the intepretive dance version of the blogosphere.

I really love this idea because I get to see how much better my kid is at writing than the other kids get to see how all the children are applying practical writing skills to enhance their creative instincts. Fury loves it because he gets to use the phrases "I emptied my clip" and "then I checked my ammo" without being sent to the school counselor.

Fury really wants an Xbox. He's accepting sponsorship opportunities for his next Publishing Party piece.

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In case you're interested, here's his narrative from this morning:


War of Flambia
By Marcus A. Lin

“Alright, ammo?” I said, checking.

“Check,” said my friend: Mustafa.

“Check,” said my other friend: Waffiat.

I blinked in the high light of the after-noon. I ran around my driveway. SPLAT!!!!!A socaboom (a bag of food coloring with soda ) hit my face. Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Pellets of small pains hit me. I ran forewords to Maghkmood. Blamblamblamblam!! Then I remembered that I had food coloring on my mask. I wiped on my jacket. I tripped and fell on some grass. “oof!!”I stood up “ARRRGH!!!” My nose started bleeding from the fall. I realized I had only used 4 bb’s. I took off my mask.

Suddenly a couple bb’s hit my cheek. Then, sharp stings bombarded me. I pulled on my mask. Dive-rolled to avoid the bb’s. Thick pumps of adrenaline hit me. One of my socabooms popped. SPLOOOSH!!! I went flying, I must have had some cuts now. Chak chak chak!!! I felt like boulders where hitting me now. Chak!!Ch-ch-chak!!!! Waffiat came to help me. SPLOOOOOSH!! Mustafa came to help me. I shot a clip at Othman, a friend on the other team.

CHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCH!!!!!!!!!! My clip emptied. I reloaded and unloaded 3 more clips. Finally after ten minutes, we got out. 

After we got out, I called a 5 minute break. I looked at my wounds: a bruise, a few cuts, and a bloody nose . I then checked my ammo: 3 clips, 10 pistol clips, 1 extra large clip, and 7 socabooms.

 “OK we can start,” I said. Me and my friends rushed  over to a small wall made by containers. I shot the first shot. Then our friends shot at us. Twwappp! Thwwwwwappp! I shot back, blammblambllllllllllllllllllaaam! I emptied a clip. Then, Reneme and Othman switched to pistols. "Hey guys let’s throw two of our socabooms at time” I suggested.

“OK.” Waffiat agreed

“10  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 GOOO!!!!” We all threw two of our socabooms at them at the same time. The result: A MEGA – HYPER- SUPER- AWESOME-DESTRUCTO- BLAST!!!SPLOOOOOSHKABOOOKABLAMO!!!!!!

“OK OK! We give up!!” Othman said

“WHOOOO HOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” I yelled. We went inside my garage.”Whoa what a great game,” I said.

“Yeah” Othman agreed

The end