#weevily wheat

[zomberry-dot-exe]

Things I Want

-None of your weevily wheat

-None of your barley

-Fine flour in half an hour

-To bake a cake for Charley

[peerwerk]

Weevily Wheat

"Don't want no weevily wheat,

Don't want no barley,

Take some flour in half an hour,

and bake a cake for Charlie"

When I was in 2nd grade, my elementary school was putting on some big production of sorts, I think it had something to do with being patriotic/folksy. There were a few things that the children could take part in; you could pick to be in the "Standing On Stage Reciting A Poem" group, you could be in the "Cute Little Kids Put On A Colonial Play" group, etc. The group I decided I was going to be in was the "Weevily Wheat" group, the most cherished of groups. If you had any sort of talent, this was the "It" group.

Being in Weevily Wheat meant that you needed to memorize a drawn out, elaborate song and dance routine. The old-timey folk song had been changed slightly to include educational material (singing about rhyming math problems), and the two step dancing has me convinced that if I could be in this group, I would have really made it into the big leagues of importance.

The first few practices did not go entirely smoothly; I was usually a move or two behind the rest of the dancers, but I was not letting this deter me. My music teacher, however, was not as impressed my my dancing skills as I thought she might be, and one day upon entering into the class, she turned me right around and said "You aren't in this class anymore, sweetie" and shut the door.

I walked onto the playground in tears. How DARE they kick me out of Weevily Wheat; I had memorized all of the lyrics, and had even drawn out all of the dance steps in my notebook so that I could have their images permanently scarred into my 8 year old retinas. I had been reassigned to "Standing On Stage Reciting A Poem", much to my embarrassment. There were not even any solo readings in this god forsaken piece of shit. I still kept my story to my fellow schoolmates that I was, indeed, a part of Weevily Wheat.

I don't remember much about reciting the poem that day, except it was about something having to do with America, or the 4th of July, or whatever. Afterwards, my mother greeted me from the audience with a bouquet of flowers, but was wondering why I "didn't smile at all on stage". You wanna know why? I have forever been burned by Weevily Wheat.