It's a Turkey's Life - by Nate

     I wake up out of my bed and I can't figure out what's annoying me most. That I haven't paid the rent from my store, or that I can't afford a new assortment of meat for the St. Patrick's Day Parade. I get up and slowly get dressed in my stainless butcher uniform and I hobble half-asleep downstairs. I take some bird seed and I toss it to my bird Tweeter's cage. She looks at me eagerly and squeaks for more. I pat her head (it feels nice on her soft velvety feathers). As I leave I take a look at my little house. The cool wet dew is sloshing under my feet as I walk towards my car. As I drive towards the center of town, all the other businesses look bigger than mine. As I park my car, I look up at the big neon letters above my show, "Boberts Butchery". I go inside and I change the sign from 'closed' to 'open' and then I turn on the lights and go behind the counter. I pick up the novel that I'm reading by my all-time favorite author Rick Riordan. "Best day of my life," I say glumly. Then the door opens and a fancy looking man walks in. I put down my book and ask him politely, "Can I help you sir?" He looks through narrowed eyes at my menu while toying with his thin wispy moustache. Without looking at me, he orders, "I'll take 10 pounds of your best ham for $300." I try not to gawk in amazement as my eyes bulge. I can only squeak out, "coming right up sir."
     I know it's just enough for my rent. I rush into the cold meat locker, my eyes wide with excitement. I frantically look around for my best ham. I see a small box in the corner covered with frost. I run over there, pick up the box and wipe the frost off the label. The box had probably been in here for months but no time to check the expiration date. The worn out label says in thin dark fancy script "Gourmet Ham imported from Spain". I put the box on the table. The man checks every inch of the box. He takes out a ball point pen and slowly props the top of the box up and checks the hams. A smile fringes on the side of his face - he quickly bats it down. he says (in his best poker face) "I'll take 'em."
     After closing time, I hop into my car and drive off to the bank. I hand the bank accountant my $300. He gives me $50 back. Just then I remember I paid $50 i advance. I drive off to the super market to get the St. Patrick's Day Parade ham.

Vote for Trail Mix!

Ben's 2nd grade class is holding an election to see if the students prefer a sweet or salty snack.  Ben is campaigning for the salty snack...trail mix.  Love that slogan at the end!