Cartoons…not just for kids anymore.

We all remember our childhood days when we would sit in front of the TV engrossed in our favorite cartoon show.  For some of us, Saturday mornings was purely reserved for our cartoon viewing pleasure; we endured a tortuous week of school and homework just to make it to that holiest of days.  Hanna-Barbera 2
This is what I grew up watching.  Back then cartoons were just that…cartoons.  The drawings were elementary and colorful; the movement very nuts and bolts; the plot safe and mundane.  It’s nature by design was targeted for kids.  And that was okay by my standards.  Any adult caught watching this would a strange sight…well can you imagine your parents watching this for enjoyment.

As I grew a little older, I felt a little out of place watching this.  You kind of knew where most of the story was going and all the characters wore the same outfits.  It’s like they had a lifetime supply of the same clothes.  Luckily for me cartoons started to change a bit.  They ventured into more action, sci-fi and comic book type of things.
hanna_barbera_action_ Superfriends
This fantasy, sci-fi cartoon was simply out of this world. Not to mention, seeing comic book characters finally on-screen. It was pure ecstasy seeing cartoons geared for the older child. The drawings and motion were still a bit rudimentary and the plot very simple and safe.  But that was okay.  It captured my attention and held it for hours on end.

After awhile these new type of cartoons just didn’t capture my attention.  I was just growing up and these cartoons started to feel childish again.  I felt embarrassed if any adult stumbled upon me watching this; it felt as if your best friend caught you in the act of watching Sesame Street.  Not that there’s anything wrong with Sesame Street, it’s just meant for a different age bracket.

For the longest time cartoons became homogenous in drawing and plot.  As I got into college I got turned onto “anime”.  When I saw this, it completely blew my mind. This was cartoons but on steroids and meant for the older crowd.

Gundam 1 Bleach 1 Naruto shippuden 2Naruto_Shippuden 1

The drawings were like works of art and the plots more complex in nature.  The movements of the characters were more fluid in motion and realistic. It was fantastical in nature, action packed and engaging.

It’s as if my whole life of watching cartoons as a kid was gearing me up for anime.  I no longer felt ashamed of watching this; I would be totally oblivious to any adult entering the room.  I was reliving my childhood again but in an adult way.  Yes it’s still cartoons…but it’s done in a sophisticated and craftful manner.

Whenever I have some spare time, I would go onto the internet and catch up on the latest anime series that captures my attention.  My kids are even entranced with it and think I’m cool for sharing an interest in anime with them.  It’s purely an escape for me when I’m tired of regular TV viewing.  All I can say is that thank God for “anime”…it “TOTALLY ROCKS!”

In a rush…just DON’T FORGET to FLUSH!!!

toilet The toilet…
something that is commonplace in all of our lives.  Day in and day out we do our business in it, whether it be “number 1” or “number 2” OR “number 3”.  “Number 3” is what I’d refer to as either puking your guts out from a horrendous night of drinking or from a bout of the dreaded flu.  We know this contraption oh so well; some would even call it our friend.  That’s fine.  We do our business, wipe and then flush…all in that order.

There are times when a family member, spouse or roommate forgets that last particular and “crucial” step…FLUSH.  We’ve all encountered that, don’t you dare deny it.  You go in to the bathroom, lift up the toilet cover and…BAM!  Poop staring right at you.  You cringe in slight disgust and flush it.  But because it’s at home we tend to let it go and complete that step for them before we “really need to go.” It’s disgusting but forgivable.

It’s even understandable to encounter this in public restrooms at the mall, restaurants, dive bars and “little hole in the wall” diners.  We just accept the fact that there are people out there that don’t give a rip who uses the toilet after them.

My one annoyance however is when this happens at the workplace.  You know…the employee restroom that you and all your co-workers share.  You go in ready to do your thing and…WHAM! There it is staring at you in the face, in the midst of the shredded toilet paper…a giant turd in the bowl.  Lucky you.

It’s even more hard to stomach if the person before you had the “runs”.  Seeing that murky cesspool with bits of food particles all floating there just makes you want to vomit and contribute to that mess.

Thoughts race through your minds as to who did this; who was the culprit that I passed on my way into the men’s bathroom or the women’s bathroom.  Don’t you dare deny that.  Some of the times we pass the person leaving the bathroom and encounter their poop in all its glorified form.

I then start to wonder how could they not remember to flush.  Did we forget what the “whoosh” sounds like!?  Are we so consumed with outside things that we imagined hearing the toilet flush!?  This just irritates me to no end.

Don’t even get me started on when to know to do the “double flush”…you know what I mean.  You flush once but there is still some left over poop that just won’t go down or remnants of that muddy diarrhea water still remaining.  Some just flush, which I commend, but they don’t stay to see if the toilet bowl water is clear of their mess.

I would be so embarrassed if I left anything behind in the toilet bowl and passed one of my co-worker who is just entering the bathroom.  They would be the recipient of my unwanted present.

Granted there are times when it’s just pee; I can stomach that as can most of you.

All I can say is that you keep this phrase in mind, if you don’t want your co-workers giving you nauseating side looks.

Even if you’re in a rush…toilet_flushing
please just “DON’T FORGET TO FLUSH!”

Things that go “bump” in the night

Well, it’s that time of the year…halloween clip art 2

Yep…Halloween.  A time where kids dress up and go “trick or treating” for candy; as for the adults, we dress up and validate it as “cosplay” and relive our childhood once again. Halloween was always something that I looked forward to as a child, but once I grew older it just didn’t appeal to me as much.  I just brushed it off as another day and knew that it would soon be Thanksgiving.  I’ve never took stock in the supernatural even though I’ve heard many “stories”, granted they were all secondhand or in most cases fifth or sixth hand.

Back in college, me and a host of my friends tried to make an attempt to see if any of what we heard was true.  But unfortunately, nothing came to pass and we just brushed it off as a whole lot of bunk.

When reality TV started up and shows featuring paranormal investigators popped on the tube, I watched with skepticism and knew it was more of an entertainment value on my end.  This went on for 10 plus years and I was beginning to grow a bit tired of the “same old” scenes.  That is until two years ago.

It was a normal night and I had gone to bed; a trip to the bathroom awoke me from my slumber.  It was about 230 in the morning and I scanned the clock on my nightstand.  I trudged out of bed and sluggishly made my way down the hall to the bathroom.  The motion sensor light, installed in our hallway so that we could make a safe passage to the bathroom in our half asleep state, triggered.  I made my way down and passed the living room.

Out of the corner of my eye this is what I had saw…Shadow figure
Seeing this stopped me in my tracks.  I immediately thought it was an intruder that had broken into my home, so I switched on the living room lights and readied myself.  Nobody.  My mind was inundated with all thoughts of what I could have possibly seen.  I didn’t want to admit that it was a “ghost” of some sort.  I went about my business and went back to bed.  The next day I had told my wife of this incident and she just chalked it to the drowsy state my mind was in.  Sounded reasonable.  And that was that.

A few weeks later, it was a normal night and my son was having a hard time sleeping.  As a doting father, I offered to lay next to him until he went to sleep.  Well, one thing led to another and I had drifted off to sleep.

Something poking the arch of my left foot awoke me; it happened several more times.  It felt as if someone’s finger was forcibly pushed into my arch over and over and over.  It was strange nonetheless and I assumed it was my little Yorkshire Terrier trying to get my attention so that I could lift him onto the bed.  To my shock, my little Yorkie was laying sound asleep in between me and my son.

A chill ran down my back, you know the kind you get when all the hairs on your body stand on its end and you get that unusual “tingle” all throughout.  I just froze and didn’t know what to do.  Thoughts of the supernatural crept into my somnolent mind; didn’t want to look towards my foot for fear of seeing that shadow apparition.  First thing that popped in my head…say a prayer.  The power of prayer should get me out of this mess.  I said every prayer that I knew from all those years of going to catholic school and church.

That calmed me for a moment but I was still a bit startled.  I checked the clock on my son’s nightstand and it read “2:30am.”  WHAT?!  Was this coincidence?  At that point I didn’t care, I summoned up what little courage I had and hopped out of bed to turn on the lights.  Nobody.  Nothing.  Safe to say, I had a hard time going back to sleep after that.

I told my wife of this but she again felt that I was just dreaming the whole thing up.  Since that time, whenever I was up alone at night and had to traverse about the house, I would flip the switch of every room if it meant getting me to my destination in the light.

Suffice to say nothing has happened since then and I’m am now back to watching those reality shows on the paranormal with greater interest knowing that something “unexplainable” happened to me.

I went from seeing ghosts like this…ghost 1

to this…Ghost 2

In a way I hope to encounter another paranormal experience but yet not.

Always eat your vegetables.

Wesley was the most fastest, smartest, strongest, energetic student in his whole entire 4th grade class.

If there was a race, Wesley would come in first place. If there was a question that a teacher asked , Wesley would be the first to raise his hands and answer. If there was an arm wrestling contest, Wesley would always win. From the start of the school day till the end of the school day Wesley would be wide awake and ready to do anything.

Everyone in Wesley’s 4th grade class wanted to be like Wesley and they wanted to know what his secret was to being the most fastest, smartest, strongest, and energetic student in all of 4th grade. He didn’t know.

Everyday during lunch, Wesley would be discouraged at what his mom made for him. His lunch was always a sandwich and vegetable sticks. As he ate his lunch, Wesley would remember what his mom always told him, “Don’t forget, always eat your vegetables.”

Wesley looked at the other students and wished he had what they had…pizza, hamburger, fries, potato chips, and candy.

One day Wesley traded his vegetable sticks with Judy and had a pizza slice. It was simply delicious. The next day, Wesley traded his vegetable sticks with Nicky and got a hamburger. It was even more delicious. From then on, Wesley traded his lunch with a different classmate each day, and ate the lunch he always wished for.

After doing this for quite some time, Wesley started to feel sluggish at the start of the school day till the end of the school day. Everyone else moved around him energetically.

Soon Wesley noticed that if there was a race, he was the last to finish. If there was a question a teacher asked, all the other students were quick to raise their hands while he pondered the answer. If there was an arm wrestling contest, he lost.

During lunch break, Wesley started to notice that the other students were eating vegetable sticks with their sandwiches. Not one student was eating what he liked…pizza, hamburger, fries, potato chips, or candy.

Wesley wondered why the other students were eating what he used to eat.

Wesley asked Judy why she had vegetable sticks with her lunch. She replied, “My mom said it’s good for you. It keeps you healthy and makes you strong, smart, and fast.” Wesley turned to Nicky and asked him why he had vegetable sticks with his lunch. He answered, “My mom said the same thing. Vegetables make you strong, smart, and fast.”

Wesley looked at the lunch that his mom made for him. A sandwich and vegetable sticks. He remembered what his mom always told him before school, “Don’t forget, always eat your vegetables.” He soon realized that the reason why he was the fastest, strongest, smartest, and energetic was because he ate his vegetables.

From then on, Wesley never forgot to eat his vegetables.

Mark Kaneshige

“Monsters!!!”…Under The Bed

Quinn was always afraid to go to sleep in his room at night. He thought that the monsters under his bed would grab him once the lights were out.

When he was ready to go to sleep, Quinn would get in his bed and ask his mom or dad to turn off the lights. If he was thirsty at night or needed to go to the bathroom, he would yell for his mom or dad to turn on the lights.

One night, Quinn was tired and ready for bed.

“Mom, I’m in the bed now, can you turn off the lights” yelled Quinn.

His mom stood in the doorway and said, “Quinn, you’re old enough to turn off the lights by yourself.”

“But mom, how will I get in the bed?” asked Quinn.

“What do you mean?” asked his mom.

“If I turn off the lights by myself, the monsters under the bed will grab me before I can get in bed” said a concerned Quinn.

“Nonsense, there are no such things as monsters” said his mom, “now turn off the lights and go to sleep.” With that, his mom walked away leaving Quinn with the dilemma of turning off the light.

Quinn looked at the light switch and then looked at his bed. He searched his room for an answer to his problem…and there it was, his baseball bat.

He hopped into bed and stretched out, with the bat in hand, and used it to turn off the light. CLICK! Victory! With the lights off, Quinn could now go to sleep.

The next night when Quinn was ready for bed, he looked for his bat. It was nowhere to be found.

“Mom have you seen my baseball bat?” shouted Quinn.

His mom stood in the doorway and said, “Oh, I let your cousin Nicky borrow it, he lost his.”

“But mom, I needed the bat to turn off the lights” said Quinn.

“Don’t be silly, just turn it off with your fingers” said his mom. And with that, his mom left.

Quinn looked at his fingers and said, “Nope, I’m not gonna do it.” He looked around his room and gathered up his toys and shoes and brought it onto his bed.

He looked at the light switch and picked up a toy. With careful aim, he threw the toy hoping it would hit the light switch off. SWOOSH, it soared through the air and…WHACK! It missed.

Quinn threw another toy…WHACK! He missed again.

He threw another toy and another and another…WHACK, WHACK, WHACK! No luck. He decided to use his sneakers.

This time Quinn went toward the edge of his bed, took careful aim and…SWOOSH! The shoes soared through the air and hit the light switch off. Quinn smiled and went to bed.

Just then, the lights came back on. “Young man, what are you doing?” angrily said his mom.

“I didn’t have my bat, so I used my shoes to turn off the lights” said a proud Quinn.

“Don’t do this again. Tomorrow night you use your fingers and turn off the lights like a normal person” said his mom.

“But mom, if I do that I won’t have time to get in the bed. The monsters’ll grab me!” Quinn said.

“There are no monsters under your bed!” said his mom, “Now go to sleep and don’t let this happen again.”

CLICK! His mom turned off the lights. Quinn laid in his bed with a look of concern.

“How am I gonna turn off the lights with my hand and get into bed before the monsters grab me?” Quinn pondered. His eyes lit up and he said with a smile, “Yes, I got it!”

The next night came and Quinn was ready for bed. He got four chairs and lined them up in a row. It went from the light switch to his bed.

Quinn got up on the first chair, that was near the door, and turned off the light. CLICK! He proceeded to the second chair and the third.

Because it was dark, Quinn almost lost his balance, “Whew! That was close” said Quinn. He slowly and carefully stepped onto the fourth and final chair and then finally plopped onto his bed.

Quinn smiled with pride knowing that he found a way to turn off the lights with his hand and get on the bed out of the monsters’ reach.

The next night came and Quinn prepared for bed, he walked into his room and saw that the chairs were gone.

“Mom!” yelled Quinn.

His mom rushed into his room, “What’s wrong?”

“What happened to the chairs I had here in my room?” asked Quinn.

“Why do you need the chairs?” asked his mom.

“I use the chairs to turn off the lights with my hand” said Quinn, “and then I walk on top of it to get to my bed. The monsters can’t get me.”

“There are no such things as monsters under the bed” said his mom, “turn off the lights like a normal person and walk into your bed. Do you understand?”

Quinn lowered his head and answered, “Yes, I understand.”

And with that, his mom left.

Quinn put his hand on the light switch and stretched his body toward his bed. He stretched and stretched and stretched and stretched but no luck. So close but yet so far.

“How am I gonna get into bed?” wondered Quinn.

He thought and thought and thought and then finally he got an answer.

“I know, I’ll run and jump into bed. If I run fast enough, the monsters won’t be able to grab me.”

With his hand on the switch, Quinn got into a runner’s stance. He counted, “One…two…THREE!”

CLICK! Off went the lights.

Quinn made a dash for his bed. Just before he could jump into bed, Quinn tripped over one of his toys.

KA-THUD! Quinn falls onto the floor, a few inches from his bed.

“OH NO! THE MONSTERS ARE GOING TO GET ME!” screamed Quinn. Frightened of what’s to come, he shuts his eyes.

A couple of seconds past, and then another, and then another. Quinn slowly opens his eyes and sees the underneath of his bed. There’s nothing but empty space.

Quinn smiles and chuckles to himself.

Just then…CLICK! the lights go on. “

Quinn what’s wrong? Why did you scream?” asked his mom.

“Oh nothing. I just slipped and fell when I was getting into bed” said Quinn.

“Are you alright?” his mom asked.

“I’m fine!” exclaimed Quinn, “I just need some sleep.” “

Okay then, get into bed and I’ll turn off the lights” said his mom.

Quinn stood up, grinned and proudly said, “That’s okay mom, I can turn off the lights by myself!”

His mom asked, “Aren’t you worried about the monsters under the bed?”

CLICK! Quinn turned off the lights and got into bed and said to his mom, “There are no such things as monsters under the bed. Good night.”

Mark Kaneshige

How to make a good mudpie better.

Judy liked playing with mud, not in the mud mind you, but with the mud. She especially liked making mudpies. And she was real good at it.

On sunny days, Judy pulled out her little cart of supplies into her backyard and studied the dirt. She would grab a handful of dirt and feel it to see if it was the right texture and temperature for making mudpies.

“This is perfect” said Judy.

She would take an empty pail and shovel from her cart and fill it up with dirt. She would then add some water from a bottle into the pail and mix it with her long wooden spoon.

Judy would take the pail of mud over to a sunny flat section of the backyard and carefully spooned out some mud onto the ground. She always made four round mudpies because she liked the number four.

“I wish there was some way I could make my mudpies better” said Judy.

With that, she stepped back and let the sun bake her mudpies. While waiting for her pies to bake, Judy would smell the flowers, shoot some colored marbles, and play in the sandbox.

After doing all those things, Judy went to check on her mudpies. She always inspected it carefully before touching them.

“It’s ready” she said.

Judy picked up her mudpies and carried it over to a box labelled “Judy’s pies”. She opened it and put the mudpies in with her other collection of mudpies.

She stared at her collection long and hard and thought to herself, “There must be a way to make my mudpies better.”

She thought and thought and thought but could not come up with an idea. Feeling frustrated, Judy went into the house to find an answer.

She went into the kitchen where her mother was putting the finishing touches on a cake.

Judy noticed her mother placing some candy flowers and gumballs around the edges of the cake.  She then threw some candy sprinkles in the middle for color.

Her mother showed Judy the cake and asked her, “How do you like the way this cake looks?”

“Wow, it looks pretty” replied Judy.

After watching her mom decorate the cake, Judy got an idea.

“That’s what I’ll do” exclaimed Judy. She then ran out to the backyard.

Judy was hard at work making her mudpies. Before setting her pies out in the sun to bake, she picked some flowers, grabbed her marbles, and got some sand from the sandbox.

When she set her mudpies on the flat ground, Judy did exactly what her mom did when decorating the cake.

Flowers and marbles were place on the edges of the pie and sand was sprinkled in the middle for a little color.

While the sun baked her mudpies, Judy did not smell the flowers, shoot her marbles, or play in the sandbox, instead she went to “Judy’s pies” box.

She took out her mudpies and brought them over to the dirt section one by one. When she was finished, she went to check her other mudpies.

Judy carefully inspected her new mudpies and then picked them up. She carried them and placed them into “Judy’s pies” box. She looked at her creation but didn’t smile.

She ran into the house and came out with a pen. She scribbled something on the box and then stepped back. “Judy’s cakes” was now written on the box.

“There, that’s better” said Judy with a big smile. She looked at her colorful mudcakes and said, “Now that’s how to make a good mudpie better.”

Mark Kaneshige

A Beard, A Mustache or A Goatee

Seven year old Sam would sit in front of a mirror all day and stare at his face.

“What should I have, a beard, a mustache, or a goatee?” wondered Sam.

The reason he asked himself that question was because he had three uncles who he thought were interesting.

His first uncle, Uncle James, had a white beard, not as long as Santa’s, but just as noticeable. Uncle James had a tendency to stroke his beard. His second uncle, Uncle Bill, had a nice black mustache that curled at the ends. Uncle Bill had a tendency to twirl his mustache whenever he could. And his third uncle, Uncle Matt, had a brown goatee that hung from his chin and flapped everytime the wind blew. Uncle Matt would rub his goatee with his fingers from top to bottom.

“Maybe I should have a white beard like Uncle James, yeah that’s what I should have” said Sam.

He looked high and low all over his house to make a white beard. Sam found the answer in his refrigerator…a can of whipped cream. Sam squirted out a handful of whipped cream and rubbed it on his face. He shaped it like Uncle James’ beard and went to see himself in the mirror.

“Just like Uncle James” said Sam. With that, he stroked his beard and proudly walked around the house.

“What are you doing? What is that on your face!?” asked his mother.

“I put whipped cream on my face to make a beard like Uncle James” answered Sam.

“You eat whipped cream, not put it on your face. Wash your face” said his mother.

Feeling disappointed, Sam went to wash his face. Sam sat back in front of the mirror and stared at his face again.

“Maybe I should have a black mustache like Uncle Bill” said Sam. And with that he found a black pen and scribbled a dark mustache on his face.

He looked at his mustache, “This is much better than the whipped cream.” Sam pretended to twirl his mustache and proudly walked out of his room. He headed out the door when… “Sam, what did you do to your face?” shouted his mother.

“I used a pen and made myself a mustache like Uncle Bill” replied Sam, “isn’t it neat?”

“Young man, you use a pen to write things with, not draw on your face. You go wash your face right now” shouted his mother.

“But mom, I want a mustache” replied Sam.

“You need to have hair to have a mustache, now go wash your face” exclaimed his mother.

Feeling disappointed again, Sam went to wash his face. Sam sat back in front of the mirror again and stared real hard at his face.

“Maybe I should have a brown goatee like Uncle Matt” said Sam, “but this time I should use some hair.” Sam thought about cutting some of his to make his goatee but it wasn’t brown. He thought real hard and finally thought of an answer…his dog Oscar was brown.

“That’s it!” shouted an eager Sam, “That’s what I’ll use, Oscar’s fur.”

With a scissor in hand, Sam found Oscar. Oscar had a nice and silky brown fur that was soft to the touch. Sam grinned with delight and cut a handful of Oscar’s fur. He placed the brown fur on some sticky tape and fashioned it into a goatee. He then put the sticky tape on his chin and rubbed his goatee from top to bottom.

Sam looked at himself in the mirror and cracked a big smile when all of a sudden… “Sam get over here right now!” screamed his mother.

Sam dashed out of his room and went to his mother. His mother was sitting next to Oscar, who had a big bald spot in the middle of his back. She did not look happy.

“Young man, did you do this to Oscar? And now what is that on your face?” said his mother.

“I used Oscar’s hair to make a goatee like Uncle Matt” said Sam.

“Sam, to have a beard, mustache, or goatee, you need to grow hair” said his mother.

“So when am I going to grow some hair?” asked Sam.

“Not for awhile I’m afraid, but in the meantime I stopped by the costume shoppe and picked up these things for you” said his mother.

She presented Sam with a white clip-on beard, a black press-on mustache, and a brown press-on goatee. “Gee thanks mom!” said a delightful Sam.  And with that, he scooped them up and ran to his room.

Sam laid down the white beard, the black mustache, and the brown goatee.

He looked at the mirror and stared at himself. “What should I have…a beard, a mustache, or a goatee?” wondered Sam.

Mark Kaneshige

My dad is…

One bright day, at a very busy playground, there were three young boys playing in a sandbox.

Michael, Timmy, and Alan were playing with their action figures when suddenly one of the boys stood up. Alan looked at his astronaut action figure and then turned to Michael and Timmy. Alan said proudly, “My dad is the best dad in the whole world. He’s an astronaut and he gets to fly a rocket ship and work in space. He’s up there right now doing cool things in space.”

As soon as Alan finished talking, a fire engine truck drove by with sirens wailing and lights flashing. Timmy stood up with great pride and said, “That’s nothing, my dad is the greatest dad in the whole world. He’s a very busy fireman. He puts out a lot of fires and rescues people all the time. I’ll bet he was on that truck.”

After hearing Alan and Timmy talk about their dads, Michael said, “Wow, your dads are really neat. I wish I could have one of your dads.”

Alan and Timmy were curious and asked Michael, “So what does your dad do?”

Michael lowered his head in shame and replied, “Oh nothing special, he doesn’t do cool stuff like work in space or put out fires. My dad is a businessman who works in an office. Everyday after work, he comes home and plays ball with me or challenges me in a video game. Once in awhile when he’s not too tired, we’ll go rollerblading or to a movie.”

Alan and Timmy looked at each other and then looked at Michael. Alan said, “Wow you’re lucky.” Timmy agreed, “Yeah, you are lucky to have a dad like that.”  Michael was a bit puzzled at what Alan and Timmy said.

Michael responded, “Why am I lucky?”

Timmy said, “My dad is so busy being a fireman that after work, he’s too tired to do anything with me. All he does is sleep.”

Alan said, “My dad works in space so I hardly ever see him. I wish I could do stuff with my dad like you do.”

Timmy agreed, “Yeah, I wish my dad would do cool stuff with me like your dad does with you.”

After hearing this, Michael raised his head in pride and stood up. He said very proudly, “My dad is the best dad in the world. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t do neat things in space or put out fires, he’s the greatest because he’s there to do things with me. I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world!”

Mark Kaneshige

3 Feet 2, nothing I can do.

The Foster family is a very, very tall family. Dad Foster is 6 feet tall. Mom Foster is 5 feet 11. Together they had five children, three boys and a girl. The oldest child Billy is 6 feet 4. The second oldest child Chad is 6 feet 2. The third oldest child Beth is 5 feet 11. The fourth child Anna is 5 feet 10. And finally the youngest child is Ricky who was only 3 feet 2.

“3 feet 2, I’m so short there’s nothing I can do” Ricky always said with a disappointed face.

Everyday Ricky would measure his growth in the doorway, and everyday it was the same…3 feet 2. He longed for the day to be tall like his brothers and sisters. Because he was the shortest, Ricky always felt like there was nothing he could do by himself.

When Ricky wanted to read his favorite books from the tall bookshelf, he had to ask Anna to get the books for him. When Ricky wanted to drink a cup of juice, Beth always had to get a cup for him from the high cupboard. When Ricky wanted to play with his prized toy cars, he always asked Chad to bring it down for him from the top shelf of his closet. When Ricky wanted to hang his model planes from the ceiling of his room, Billy hand to string it up for him.

“3 feet 2, I’m so short there’s nothing I can do” sadly said Ricky.

Ricky decided to do something. He got four big soup cans and taped two to the sole of his right shoe and two to the left sole. He stood up and already he felt tall. Ricky tried to walk but the weight of the soup cans were too heavy. He could only move about an inch from where he stood. This was not going to work.

“I got a better idea!” exclaimed Ricky.

He took off his shoes and made a dash for his room. He brought a chair into his closet and stood on top. He parted his clothes and hung onto the clothes bar. He held on for as long as he could and then let go.

“There, that should’ve made me taller” said Ricky.

Ricky decided to make an attempt to get something that was out of his reach. He went to get some ice cream from the freezer’s top shelf. Ricky strained to reach the ice cream, just then his mom and dad appeared and plucked it off the shelf for him.

Ricky felt disappointed.

He asked his parents, “When am I going to grow and be tall like the rest of the family?”

“Why do you want to know?” said his mom.

“Because I’m only 3 feet 2. I’m so short there’s nothing I can do” replied Ricky.

“Nonsense” replied his dad.

“But it’s true. When I feel like reading my favorite book, Beth has to get it down for me. When I need a cup for some juice, Anna gets me a cup. When I want to play with my cars, Chad has to bring them down from my closet shelf. And when I change my model planes hanging on the ceiling, Billy has to do it for me.” said Ricky.

His mom looked at him and said, “You know, your dad and I as well as Billy, Chad, Beth, and Anna were all short when we were young. As we got older, we grew taller.”

His dad added, “You’ll catch up to us soon. Who knows, you might even grow up to be the tallest one in the family.”

Ricky cracked a little smile but was still disappointed that he was 3 feet 2.

One day Ricky was outside with two of his best friends, Dexter and Sam. Ricky laid on the ground and said, “Dexter, grab my hands and Sam, you grab both my feet. On the count of three, pull as hard as you can.” Dexter and Sam felt a little weird but did what Ricky asked. “One…two…THREE!” shouted Ricky. Dexter and Sam pulled, and pulled, and pulled, and pulled, until they were too tired to pull. Ricky leaped up and stood there smiling as if he were 10 feet tall.

He looked at his friends, “So do I look any taller?”

Dexter and Sam looked at him from heat to toe and both said, “No.”

Feeling defeat, Ricky decided to go inside. On his way in, he noticed the whole family huddled in a circle. Out of curiosity, he went to see what was going on. “What happened?” asked Ricky.

“I was going to do some yard work, so I took off my wedding ring to put it in my pocket. It slipped out of my hands, dropped to the ground and rolled beneath that small crevice in the corner.  I couldn’t reach it” said his mom.

“Maybe I can crawl inside to get it” said his dad. His dad tried but was too big to fit in the small space. Billy tried but was too big as well. Chad tried, and then Beth, and then Anna. Everyone was too big and tall to fit in that tiny space.

“Let me try” said Ricky.

Since he was only 3 feet 2, Ricky easily crawled into the small space and retrieved his mom’s ring. When he came out, his family cheered and congratulated him on a job well done. His mom hugged him and said, “You see, sometimes being short is not so bad. You can do things that tall people can’t do.” Ricky smiled with joy.

Later that night the whole family celebrated Ricky’s accomplishment over a hearty meal. The next day when Ricky went to measure himself in the doorway, he noticed that he was an inch taller. He was extremely happy that he grew. It wasn’t alot but that was alright by him. Ricky grinned and proudly said, “3 feet 3, I’m still short but that’s fine by me. I can do things that tall people can’t do.”

Mark Kaneshige

Chloe’s Stage Fright

Chloe was the only student in third grade that loved to dance. It didn’t matter where, it didn’t matter how, it didn’t even matter if there was music playing or not Chloe just loved dancing. Her dancing involved a lot of twirling, skipping, hopping, jumping, swaying, and prancing.

Chloe’s teacher, Miss Keegan, noticed Chloe’s fondness for dancing and thought she was the perfect choice for the part of the dancing princess in their third grade play. Miss Keegan walked up to Chloe and asked, “Hey Chloe, we’re having a play this Friday night and I was wondering if you would like to be in it?”

Dancing away, Chloe replied “I dunno.”

“I think you would be perfect as the lead character” said Miss Keegan, “the dancing princess.”

She stopped and looked at Miss Keegan.  “Dancing?” said Chloe.

“Yes, you like to dance right?” asked Miss Keegan.

“All the time” exclaimed Chloe.

“So do you want to be the dancing princess in our play?” asked Miss Keegan.

“Yes!” said an excited Chloe.

“Great. The play is going to be in four days so we’ll be rehearsing for a short while afterschool.” said Miss Keegan. “Okay” answered Chloe. And with that, Chloe danced away with a hop, skip, and a twirl.

Afterschool, for the next four days, Chloe rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed with Miss Keegan and a few of her classmates. Miss Keegan was pleased at the way her students practiced, “I’m proud of you all. And especially you Chloe, you dance very well. You’re all going to do just fine for tonight’s play. See you later tonight.” Chloe was so happy to be in a play that involved the one thing she loved the most…dancing. Chloe gathered her things and proceeded to walk home. She was joined by two of her friends, Sarah and Kevin, who were also in the play.

As they were walking home Chloe said “Isn’t it great that we’re in a play?”

“I guess so” replied Sarah, “but I’m kind of scared.”

“Yeah, me too” said Kevin. Chloe was a bit puzzled and asked “What are you scared of?” “Performing in front of all those people” said Kevin.

“Yeah, all those people staring at you. I hope I don’t trip or fall. Everybody would laugh at me.” Sarah added. Chloe was a bit concerned at what Sarah said.

“I hope I don’t forget what to say” said Kevin, “that’s even more scarier.” Chloe started to look a little scared.

“I’m glad I’m not you Chloe” said Sarah. Kevin said the same, “Yeah, I’m glad I’m not you.”

“Why?” asked a puzzled Chloe.

“Because you’re the main character” said Kevin, “you have to dance and talk.” Sarah added, “Yeah, all those people will be watching you. What if you trip and fall or forget your lines?” “Everyone will laugh at you” said Kevin.

Chloe was now scared.

Sarah and Kevin waved Chloe goodbye as she headed into her house. Chloe ran up to her room and sat on her bed. “I wish I wasn’t in the play” said Chloe.

Just then, her mom entered the room, “Are you ready for the play tonight?”

“No” answered Chloe.

“Why not? Didn’t you rehearse all this week with Miss Keegan?” asked her mom.

“Yeah” said Chloe, “but I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?” asked her mom.

“What if I trip and fall or forget what to say, everyone will laugh at me. I’m scared.” said Chloe.

“Don’t be, everybody gets a little stage fright when they have to speak or perform in front of people.” said her mom. Chloe was puzzled at what her mom said, “Stage fright? What’s that?”

Her mom looked at her, “That’s when you get nervous. You’re worried about every little that could go wrong, like tripping, falling, or forgetting what to say. But if you practiced hard enough that won’t happen.” “You practiced hard didn’t you” stated her mom.

“Yes” said Chloe.

“You dance all the time and you never forget a step right” said her mom. “Yeah” said Chloe. “So don’t worry so much” said her mom, “you’re only doing what you love to do except it’s on a stage. You dance all the time in front of your dad and I, your brothers and sisters, aunties and uncles, and cousins.”

Chloe listened to every word her mom said. Her mom added, “When you go on the stage tonight, just pretend that your dad and I, your brothers and sisters, aunties and uncles, and cousins are the only ones in the audience okay?”

Chloe thought for a second and smiled, “I can do that.”

That night Chloe remembered what her mom said. She never forgot what to say and she twirled, hopped, skipped, swayed, and pranced with ease. Everyone cheered and clapped when the play was done. Chloe took a bow and smiled.

“I did it!” Chloe proudly said, “Let’s do this again!”

Mark Kaneshige