'Twas the night before the dentist . . .

After she got home from the RLF/TRF basketball game, KoKo asked if I would help her write a poem for her English class.

“Now you’re talking,” I said as I fired up my laptop.

“It has to have at least six stanzas with four lines in each one. So at least 24 lines.”

“Does there have to be a rhyme scheme?” I asked her, testing her.

“Yep, you know the one where you rhyme the first two lines and then the next two. AABB,” she answered.

“Nice,” I said, overjoyed that she was actually going to be doing some writing as opposed to those dreaded grammar worksheets.

“Oh, yeah,” she said pulling up to the dining room table, “it has to be modeled after “The Night Before Christmas” poem.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ve already got the title,” she said and grinned. “’Twas the night before the dentist.”

How appropriate since we were just there on Tuesday.

To say that KoKo was engaged in this assignment is an understatement. I only wish all of her homework got her as interested and motivated as this one.

I can only think of one other one in recent memory. Her science teacher, as an end of the year activity, devised an assignment where students would use the alphabet to chronicle various terms related to biology.

Well, KoKo had to go a step further. Not only was she going to chronicle various terms using the alphabet but she was going to illustrate each one.

The only problem was that KoKo put in about three hours into an assignment that probably only earned her a few points. But she enjoyed it nonetheless.

But this “’Twas the Night Before the Dentist” assignment was a grand slam.

KoKo didn’t see it just as an assignment to get done before bed. Nor did she view it as busy work.

KoKo had already done some brainstorming and knew the direction she wanted to go. Then she recursively worked her way through the writing process. She’d propose ideas and Kristie and I would help her come up with rhyming words or nudge her along with an image or help her edit out an awkward phrase.

KoKo was thoroughly engaged in the full writing process. She had already done the pre-writing to get her topic straight (the dentist). She worked her way through the drafting stage, revising for meaning, structure, imagery, and sound all along. Finally, she typed it up on our computer and did some copy editing.

All that was left was to present it to the class the next day.

But her English teacher went one better, he submitted several to the local paper, so they will actually have them published. Not bad for a little poetry assignment that really wasn’t so little after all. I mean how often does a teacher really allow their writers to experience the full writing process, even publication?

Here’s KoKo’s poem, which will be one of the ones published -




‘Twas the night before the dentist, I lay scared in my bed
Thoughts of Novocain and drills screeching through my head;
Regretting all the sweets I’ve eaten through the year
Now I can’t sleep as I’m so full of fear.

All the warnings my mom gave me about brushing and flossing
I should have paid attention, but I thought she was bossing.
With thoughts of wishing I was never born
Because tomorrow at two I see doctor Alcorn.

In the middle of the night, I felt my stomach curl
I ran for the bathroom because I was about to hurl
My mom came in and asked, “What’s the matter.”
I could not answer because my teeth were a-chatter.

“Just go to bed, honey. Things will be okay.”
Easy for her to say, she doesn’t have tooth decay.
She tucked me in and kissed me good night
So I closed my eyes and waited for morning light.

We arrived at the dentist later that day
“Have a seat,” we heard the receptionist say.
I was too nervous to read, though there were magazines galore
My knees were knocking so hard they started to get sore.

Before I knew it, I was titled back in the chair
I was praying he’d handle my teeth with care.
He brushed them and flossed them and removed all the plaque
I was thinking I really never want to come back.

And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse
He came back with the results, and I wanted to burst
But the most miraculous words filled my heart with glee
When doctor Alcorn said, “you don’t have a single cavity.”