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gracie's world 2001


me as a little tiny kid

The Story of My Life

5th Grade Thesis
by Grace De LaRue
July 1

Well, the first thing which happened to me as a kid was I was born somewheres. But little kids, they do not remember being born, see. That is on account of they are little kids. Little kids, they have no brains whatsoever.

Me, I could not tell you about being born to save my tail.

So I guess I will skip that part.

The first thing I actually truly remember ever happening when I was a little kid was the TERRIBLE ACCIDENT WHICH HAPPENED.

All I was doing was going after some eggs, that is all. It was ever so early in the morning. My fur, it was freshly brushed. My ears, they were cleaned. They were very pink. They were still damp. Also I had my little egg basket.

I was going to fetch some eggs from the blackbird¹ nests which sitted across the road from the silo which leans all over the place with pigeons.

That was my job every Thursday. To go fetch them eggs.

Anyways, it is very early in the morning on a Thursday morning. The sun, it is coming up red as a old blackbird egg. I am skipping across the road with my egg basket. I forget to look every which way before stepping out onto the road. Bad idea.

Next thing I know WHAM I am getting runned down by this buzzy motorcycle which is the color of a lobster.²

me as a little tiny kidIf you think that looking at some road kills on the way to work is kind of nauseating, try being a road kill for your own self. Boy did I feel like hell laying there.

I was lumped on the yellow lines like a old sneaker. My red bandanna, it is gone somewheres. Also the egg basket, it is rolling and jouncing and frisking right down the middle of the road like all the sudden it is got somewheres intaresting to get to.

My chin, it is apparently nailed down to the blacktop. There is this woolly bear caterpillar³ noodging along right in front of my nose. Me, I whisper to that woolly bear get help.

However, that woolly bear, he just keeps noodging along.

Then pretty soon here comes another woolly bear only with more orange in the middle. I wait for that woolly bear to get in close range. However, that woolly bear, he is in a hurry. Also he is mumbling to himself.

So I wait for the next woolly bear.

But then the road, it becomes all loopy. There is this faraway little tune4 dinking like somebody's cranking away at a plastic music box from Hell or maybe K-Mart. I realize that music box, it is in my head. So I take a little nap and the next thing I know it is RUSH HOUR.

The sun, it is perched on top of the trees and there are dozens of hunched-up cars the size of space shuttles with poochy grills and squinty headlights like they got distemper and rabies and road rage all at once. Those cars, they are whizzing all around in both directions. Also there are people inside the cars. Those people, they are steering with one elbow and putting on lipstick and talking into telephones the size of field mice and reading newspapers and shaving their jaws with cordless razers all at once.

This one guy, he was driving with his knees and rolling a cigarette. I am not kidding.

me as a little tiny kidI realize I must act quickly. Or else end up like one of them dried baby voles. Us kids, we peeled them dried baby voles up off the highway once they got good and dry and flat and we flung them like frisbees. When we could find them baby voles.

Also if I do not act quickly, Mitzy, she will be out here tomorrow morning dragging everybody she can find along for a boring ceremony and songs and insense. Mitzy, she will construct another one of those little white tongue-depresser crosses which she constructs and which are all up and down that road.

Pretty soon here comes this battered old white truck5 with nice friendly round headlights and a nice normal looking grill which is not poochy. That truck, it has some tattered cabbage butterflies jammed into the grill, and there is this farmer6 with a straw hat and furry jaws driving that truck. So I stick up both paws and I wave like crazy.

That truck, it grinds to a stop right over top of a pile of old porkypine quills. Then that truck, it turns into a pair of long, noodly arms. Those arms, they are in blue sleeves with thready-edged cuffs with at the ends of the sleeves. There are HUGE TANNED HANDS coming out of them cuffs. Those arms with the ravelly cuffs and huge hands, they snake for miles out of nowheres. There is this voice far away at the other end of those arms. That voice, it sounds similar to a old record playing at the slowest speed of all. That voice it is saying


I try to say get me the hell off the road.

But all that comes out is


Next I am on somebody's lawn. There are concrete gnomes standing all around staring. Garden gnomes are terrifying at close range.

Then I am rumbling off down the road in the back of that pickup truck. I am in this cardboard box. That cardboard box, smells like corn on the cob.

* * * * *

Then some spongy shoes, they are padding around on some linoleum. Some people, they are murmuring things.

"...Swallowed a whole drawer full of rubber bands..."
"...starts biting as soon as the rectal thermometer comes into view..."

Some old dog a few rooms away, he is yelling "O woe! O woe!"

Also some faucet somewheres is dripping into a metal sink in a ploinka ploinka sort of manner.

That faucet, it is ploinking directly into my ear. But no, it is some kind of rubber thing. Also my head hurts like holy hell.

Why they do not turn on the lights I do not know. I grope all over my head very carefully with my paws. My head, it is held together with wires and pop-rivets and sheet metal screws and something that feels like duct tape.

There is this miniature pair of plastic-rimmed eyeglasses taped right over my face. Then I realize it is not the lights I am blind as a cave fish...


As it turned out, I ended up living here with Mom and Dad and everybody. This made Pia really mad.

At first I could not see and I had a little problem of pooping all over myself.

But I got over those things.

Also t here is this famous song about me. Everybody sings that song. It goes like this.

I once was lost!
But now am found!
was blind but now
I see!

Also I have not gone hunting blackbird eggs ever since. That is OK on account of here we have chicken eggs.

me as a little tiny kid




¹ Agelaius phoeniceus
² 1989 Honda 350
³ Pyrrharctia isabella, larval stage
4 I did not know it at the time but that song, it is Marzy Doats.
5 1986 Nissan pickup, front-wheel drive, minimal rust, Grateful Dead bumper sticker
6 That farmer with the straw hat, that was Dad

pitchers: me as a little bitty kid


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