Johny Jay Tales

I have a hard, difficult life. Sometimes, I wonder if I deserve such hardship. Then I realize, no, saints don't deserve to struggle. That's what I am, a saint. I don't really remember the definition of that word but I'll remember when I pull out my review sheet at school. It's one of our vocab words. When I talked about struggling, I wasn't kidding, we have to memorize the spelling and definition of eight new words.

I'm also still recovering from last night. Which is also the previous night. Previous. Another difficult word on my vocabulary quiz. First grade is hard. I can't wait until college where everything is easy.

Anyways, I played video games from six p.m. to nine. My fingers were sore by the end of it. Honestly, I'm surprised video games don't count as a sport. It's difficult when fighting an opponent. It takes some serious finger strength but in the end it's worth it.

I don't want to go to school today. I'm dreading the quiz. Still, my dad knocks on my door and won't quit knocking until I finally open it. He smiles, says, "Good to see you up, son. You have school today."

"No I don't!" I lie. I racked my brain. Why wouldn't I have school today? It could be a holiday.

Dad raised a questioning brow. "Why is that?" I grinned, my excuse ready. "It's a holiday, Dad. Duh. It's Christmas so we get the day off."

He released a heavy sigh. "Johny. It's the beginning of October. Christmas isn't for a while. Now get dressed. School is not canceled."

I glared at the cruel man standing in front of me. He rolled his eyes and left me to get dressed. His heavy footsteps urged a groan from the floorboards.

In the kitchen Mom handed me a lunchbox. I yanked it from her hand angrily. She was used to my attitude and smiled. "I put extra veggies in there for you to make up for all the chips you had last night." She laughed as I stopped mid-step. No. I halted mid-step. Another fancy word that would be on the quiz.

In the garage Dad reminded me school still wasn't canceled because Halloween wasn't until the end of the month. I sighed angrily and got into the car. My day was already horrible and it was impossible for it to get any worse.

Or so I thought.

We listened to music in the car. I didn't know the name of the song and Dad wouldn't tell me. To make the ride even less enjoyable, he'd randomly mute the song so I couldn't hear. He's such an awful man. When I have kids, I will let them listen to whatever music they want because I'm actually a nice person.

But, my Dad being my Dad, he then refused to tell me why he was ruining the song. I crossed my arms and sulked in my seat hoping he would see that I was clearly hurt and he should just let the song play.

He stopped the car in the line then told me he loved me. I just got madder -is that a word, madder? I'll ask my teacher- because now he wanted to rub ruining the music in my face by pretending to be the good guy. I stuck out my tongue and slammed the car door.

I stomped all the way down the hall until I got to class. Then I saw my crush. She gave me her eraser yesterday and I decided I loved her. She's nothing like my parents. She actually cares about me. She would let me play video games and skip school and she'd put good food in my lunch like chips and cookies.

A guy I didn't like so much named Bob was making armpit farts. I hate him. He's always bragging about being seven when I'm still six. My parents should have had me earlier so I could be the oldest.

That's when I realized...

What if I farted? I would be -hu-humil-humiliated- humiliated in front of my crush. I forgot her name so I'll just call her eraser girl if I have to apologize for farting in class. I sit right beside her and she would smell it. I shouldn't have been born with the ability to fart. A very bad decision on my parents' part.

The class started. We began to review the words for our quiz. The room was quiet as our teacher began to walk to his desk.

Well, it was quiet.

My fears came true. There was a loud, high-pitched, squeaking sound coming right out of my butt crack! I froze. Everyone stared. My body felt cold. I could feel the icy hands of death wrapping around me and my dad's voice saying, "Come on, squeaky, your time's up!"

Suddenly, Bob grinned. He began clapping for me. His close friends joined in. I sat there, stunned and horrified.

"Nice work, Johny!" Bob shouted. "Meet me at recess. You can join the toot-troop! You were born for this, Johny!"

I really regret coming to school today.