oh, you could have it so much better

my father and my math teacher are going bowling together..

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Dearest Andy...

Golly, what a kid you are--as EVERYBODY has told you. and I consider myself lucky to have become such great friends with you!; that being said, I don't feel strongly enough to write a goddamn poem. I'm immensely thankful that you put up with the baloney I spit at you sometimes (...not literally). You're quite the funny fellow as well, and sometimes you even make me laugh. I know you know how hard that is to do. Our abilities to read each others mind is quite nice...although I suck miserably at reading lips and I apologise...I'm also hoping you could help me out with the unwritten life goal of making our global teacher swear.

Speaking of life goals...what ever happened to that list of yours, hmmm? Because I still have mine...

Long story short, I enjoy your presence.
Love,
Jess.

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The intelligent conversations transpiring at school...
"And then he came home! And then he threw somthing at me! And then he went into his room! And then he came out of his room! And then he went into the kitchen! And then he started making some eggs!"
"Eggs?"
"Yeah, eggs! And then he started eating the eggs!"
...
"Are you still talking?"