Friday, September 9, 2011

Mason Rule Tanner - Twin Falls, Idaho - Pencil Tanner

Pencil Tanner

    My pencil was a good pencil… he served me well. One reason I loved my pencil was he was always at my side. He was always there for me when I needed him; whether it was for History, English, Math, or just to doodle. Pencil was even there for me after his tragic accident on September 27th, 2006. When he was viciously assaulted and snapped in half by Andre, not the giant… the short Mexican with glasses. After being injured Pencil was on Mr. Orloski’s desk for at least twenty second before being administered his cast. He was  always top priority and everyone loved Pencil. Albeit only one hour and twenty three minutes later Pencil Tanner passed away. He died from an immense splinter.
    Pencil was one of my sharpest friends. He even had his soft moments, but he was always firm when I needed him. Maybe it was the fact that I only had one pencil, or maybe it was the fact I had a see-through pencil pouch. But I knew Pencil was an individual; I was always able to find him in my pencil pouch. On rare occasions I would chew on Pencil, when I was thinking, or it was nearly lunch time. Other times I would roll my beloved Pencil up and down, across, or even off my desk. These were just bonding moments.
    The very distinctive looks of Pencil, honestly weren’t that distinct at all. In fact the only sundry physical features on Pencil were the jarring teeth marks he was so pristinely marred with, and his eccentric yet ravishing cast. Since he had only had Reilly McClain sign his cast he felt it was very cumbersome and below par, but no one even acquiesced with him on the matter. Pencil had his symmetrically painted yellowish orange skin and a wee pink butt. Connecting these two key parts of Pencil was his silvery belt thingy; it made him look very professional. In fact, he looked busy even when he was simply laying still. The most crucial part of Pencil was his handsome face, his apex, his tiptop, point of the lead if you will. Yes, he was a special one.
    Pencil always tasted exceptional compared to other pencils; he had his rustic woody taste. Upon chewing Pencil, I would always admire how I would taste a plethora of things. One of the most queer tastes was the metallic taste of his belt, or the rubbery taste of his eraser. Alas, now that pencil is dead all I am able to taste is the bland corpse of my beloved Pencil.
    Now Pencil is gone and all I can say is that I did and always will love and

remember him. This true story was in memory of Pencil Tanner™.


Thinking about my son this morning, remembering and reminiscing about small achievements from his school years. Thinking that I haven't lost hope in his future, wondering how to assist without interfering and proving to myself that I didn't miss a parental step in his life.

Did I give too much as a single Mom?
Did I jump in to save him from those bullies in elementary school?
Did being raised by a single Mom crush his abilities to function and discern on his own?
There is guilt....does he see that when he reaches out now for help? Is it too late for tough love?

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