Riddley riddley ree...this goes along with the previous post. Sean wrote a story in school for creative writing. The gist of it is as follows:
Cinderella was lost in the woods and got hungry. She found this gorgeous and plump squirrel so she ate it, (I can't remember if she ate it whole or not, but I believe she did and it was still alive inside her). The squirrel's friends were so angry they tracked her down and killed her and squashed her as flat as her dress.
I definitely remember the flat as a dress thing. Oh my, the school officials went apeshit about this story. Seriously. I can't help it if I gave birth to a Stephen King. Please people, he's ten, and a boy. For starters, don't pussify my son and try to make him girly. Let him be a boy. Secondly, that story just wasn't that bad. It's not like the forest animals found Cinderella at her school one day and launched a frontal assault on it complete with sewer submarines and cherry bomb dropping acorn helicopters.
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