Vignettes

Currently my freshmen are writing a series of vignettes as we read The House on Mango Street. I asked them to write a single statement telling me what it was like to live where they live. Each vignette will then center around that statement. I'm writing along with them and getting a big kick out of it. However, my students don't seem as amused by my vignettes as I am.

My statement: I live in a home that is ruled by a three-and-a-half-year-old dictator.

Vignette #1:

“Mommy! Is it wake-up time?”

My morning started just like any other, with a three-year-old alarm clock at 6 a.m. I rolled over, crawled out of my pillow-top and down feather heaven, and stumbled across the hallway. I opened the door to find my little, blond-haired firecracker standing on her bed with a giant smile on her face.

“I’m hungry!” she announced.

I asked if she wanted cereal, toast, fruit, a muffin, pancakes, waffles…each option was met with a resounding, “No!”

Otter Pop. She wanted an Otter Pop for breakfast. I was too groggy to fight, so I compromised, an Otter Pop while she waited for her toast and fruit. It is times like this that I have to remind myself that I am supposed to be the one in charge.

Vignette #2:

“I’m the line-leader!!!!”

I hear this everyday. Every time we get ready to leave the house, walk down the hall, or even go to the bathroom, I hear it.

You see, at Olivia’s pre-school, they line up for everything. They line up to go to lunch, the gym, the playground, everything. At school, Olivia doesn’t always get to be the line leader. This is because at school, Miss Becky is the boss. However, at home…

“Mommy, you get in line behind me. Daddy, you are the caboose. Now stay in line sweetie.”

Yes, she called me sweetie.