I don’t remember what I was doing when I thought of this. Probably making grilled cheese. Grilled cheese is good for ideas sometimes. So is chicken soup. Or cheesecake. Now I’m hungry.
Dear Mister President Sir,
My name is Jacob and I am 7 years old. I am writing to you because my best friend Wallace says that you’re not a real person like my daddy, you’re a superhero like Superman or Batman. I say that you’re a real person like my daddy so I’m writing this letter to ask you who is right. I hope I am right because if I’m not than I have to get Wallace an ice cream and I would rather eat the ice cream myself.
Also, Mister President Sir, I’m sorry if I didn’t get enough Sirs after your name. I wasn’t sure how many I needed because I’ve never written to a President before, except the President of my sister’s drama club because he says that she isn’t good enough to be in his play and I know he’s wrong because she does plays for me at home and they’re almost as good as a movie. Is it true that there’s a movie theater inside the White House? If there is you should turn off the TV and have my sister put on a play for you. I think you’d like it almost as much as a movie, and then maybe her drama club President would let her be in his play.
Please ignore the drool on the paper, my dog Nick drools over everything I do.
Thank you Mister President Sir,
Jacob age 7
Here’s the link to the story on Fifteen Minutes of Fiction:
Copyright 2016 by Annie Louise Twitchell
Originally posted on Fifteen Minutes of Fiction