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TITLE: My Tipical Week | Previous Challenge Entry
By Gregory Kane
09/09/09
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My Tipical Week by Nathan Clark, age 9½

My week starts with school on Monday. I can't see much point in describing my school because you're sitting in it. Besides, I have been to three different schools and they are all just the same. Mrs Cotton is away having a baby which is why we have a supply teacher. Otherwise I wouldn't have to right this stupid essay about my tipical week because Mrs Cotton already knows what I'm like. So there.

Tuesday, Wedensday, Thursday and Friday aren't any different. After school each day I go home and do my boring homework. Except that sometimes when it's dredfully boring I sort of forget. Once I've finished I might play on my Nintendo DS or chase our puppy round the garden. She's called Brat which is quite a good name as she sometimes bites. My big brother, Dennis, is meant to be training her but he often forgets about this because he's a bit too fond of his computer. Last week Brat bit the postman and my Dad got in big trouble. So afterwards Dennis got his backside tanned and my Dad banned him from using the computer for a hole week. Maybe now Brat will learn to sit up and beg. It's a shame no one has the job of training my big brother because he could sure do with it!

Thursdays are kind of interesting because my Nan comes round for dinner. I'm don't think my Dad likes Nan very much. He calls her names like Dragon or Goat or Witch behind her back. One day I repeated some of these words when we were all seated round the kitchen tabel and my Mum boxed my ears and Nan gave my Dad a dirty look. Later on, once Nan's gone home, my Dad fetches a bottle of whiskey from its hiding place under the sink. The people who go to our church aren't supposed to drink alcohol but my Dad says that God never had a mother-in-law so he couldn't possibly understand.

Saturdays are my favourite part of the week because Mum and Dad stay in bed until after ten, so we get to watch children's TV all morning. My parents are always kissing and hugging and other gross stuff. Me and my brother agree that kissing is soppy and disgusting and there's no way we would ever want to kiss a girl. Yuck! Anyway, once they finally get up we have to choose between spending the rest of the day with Mum or with Dad. Not a difficult choice if you have at least half a brain. Mum goes shopping which is increddably boring whereas Dad takes us down to the park. Unfortunately a couple of weeks ago we was playing cricket and our Dad put the ball through the side window of a parked car. We quickly scarpered but Dad says we're avoiding the park for the time being just in case. That's why Mum's been dragging us round the shops while Dad gets to stay at home and tinker in his garage. But we think we've got this problem sorted. Cos now every time Mum comes out of the changing room wearing a new dress, Dennis or me pipes up and says that it makes her bottom look really enormous. We're pretty sure that next Saturday Mum will tell Dad that she much prefers shopping alone.

On Sundays we all go to church. Our pastor is really old and the only jokes he knows are dead stupid. Mrs Smyth is my Sunday School teacher and she's great because she tells exciting Bible stories. But it helps if you can look dumb when it's question time because her breath stinks. The one thing I don't like about my church is that they won't let me take the bread and the juice. Pastor Dull (that's really his name, honest) says that I'm too young to understand what it means. But I do. I've asked Jesus to take my bad things away and I read my Bible every day. My Mum makes me but even if she didn't I still would because it's important. So I think it's a silly rule that I have to wait until I'm fifteen. I'm sure Jesus would give me bread and juice if he was here. He understands that children are important even if most grown-ups seem to have forgotten. And neither would he have given me such a stupid homework if he was our supply teacher. So there.

The End.

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