Turkey Boycott

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I received an email from Captain Jake Sparrow's teacher, the Infamous Dot Giver, in the middle of the day yesterday:

The title of the invoice was: NEED YOUR HELP!

You can only imagine what was going through my head.

Did he eat all the fruit snacks from the snack pantry?

Did he poke his teacher in the eye with a stick?

Was he trying to negotiate his way out of a timeout?

Did he smear poop all over himself, the toilet, the bathroom walls, the.....

Ohhhhh.....nooooooooooooooo.

It is soooooo much more unimaginable than any of those things.

This is the email she sent me, word for word:


i presented to the class today our costume for the thanksgiving feast. jake was very disappointed to find out that we are the turkeys. he really wanted to be a pilgrim or an indian... what is your suggestion for convincing jake to be a turkey. i am usually pretty good at this, but he is not giving and even cried! HELP!

Upon receiving this email, my immediate response was:

Whack that kid on the head with a 2x4, tell him he's going to be the biggest 'effin butterball turkey there ever was, and send him to the damn principal's office.

Doesn't want to be a turkey.

Who the HELL does this TURKEY think he is?????

UGH!

Might I casually mention that at the same time, I was dealing with another of our two children who had to be taken home early from school with a one hundred degree fever and swollen tonsils, as well as attempt to get this stable of a house ready for a party of about 40 adults and children for a 'young family' party on Saturday?

Apparently, she either didn't get my email telling her to march him to the principal's office (I politely removed all the other angry mom stuff), or she chose not to use that method of punishment, because when Billy Two Swords arrived at school to retrieve the anti-Turkey Costume Wearer, the Infamous Dot Giver begged Two Swords for help on the matter.

Two Swords was able to bribe the Captain with, of all things, the privilege of helping him to grill steaks for dinner.

FRICK A FRACK A FRICK A FRACK.

That's how the Captain thinks he's swearing.

So that's how I'm going to swear right now.

FRICK A FRACK A FRICK A FRACK.

So the Captain says, "Yeah, I guess I'll be a Turkey."

OH NO! OH NO! OH NO!

You are NOT getting off THAT easy, my little ANTI-TURKEY COSTUME WEARING friend!

So I forced him to write an apology note to the Infamous Dot Giver.

Please note, the Sparrow only knows how to write about, um, three letters.

And shall I casually remind you that his name contains FOUR letters?

And the three letters that the Sparrow knows are not three of four letters in his name.

By the way.

AHEM.

I just counted the lines on this note - TWENTY.

He and I wrote the note, AHEM, together.

I squeezed his hand so hard as we were writing it, he kept begging for me to stop.

And he was complaining that his hand was too hot.

And he was complaining that it was taking too long, that we were going to miss GI Joe.

And I was hurting his pen. (Hurting his PEN? ARE YOU Frick A Frack A Frick A Frack KIDDING ME? Hurting his PEN?)

FRICK A FRACK A FRICK A FRACK.

We wrote the following DAMN apology note, painful as it was for the Turkey Costume Boycotter:


Dear Mrs. Infamous Dot Giver:

I am sorry that I was whining about my Turkey costume on Thanksgiving.
I was disobedient.
I was disrespectful.
I was disruptive to the class and I am sorry.
After talking to my parents, we have decided that it is absolutely in my best interest to gladfully accept your invitation to wear a turkey costume and participate with the class in the joyful celebration of Thanksgiving.
Please forgive me for my behavior and for my Jake-ness.

Jake

FRICK A FRACK A FRICK A FRACK

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