I love the grand announcements they make. Some of them are so good at this, that you can almost hear the fanfare of a full orchestra building behind them. One of my favorites was from a class long ago from a girl I'll call Scout, because she had the spunkiness of Scout Finch.
"I'm getting a new sister," Scout announced.
She was an only child, and this was definitely exciting news. The class started to gather around her.
"We're adopting her," she went on.
"That's wonderful!" I said. "Is she a baby, or is she an older child?"
She looked thoughtful, as if she was searching for the right answer. "She's two. Her parents were in a car accident."
At this point, I was trying to keep the tears from coming, and there was a blanket of hush over the crowd. Scout truly had the floor.
"How sad!" I said. "Did you know her family?"
She nodded. "They were our friends."
I searched for the right thing to say. "Well, she's so lucky to have you."
She smiled, definitely pleased with how her announcement had been received.
Her mother came by to pick her up for an appointment that afternoon.
"Congratulations!" I said.
Scout's mother had a puzzled look on her face, as she stooped to tie her shoe.
"On your adoption!" I said.
More puzzled looks. "We're not adopting ..." Her voice trailed off, as she slowly turned toward Scout.
Scout's focus was on the nearest escape route. She shot me a "thanks-for-snitching" look.
Her mother's voice boomed through the open window as they headed out to their appointment. "Why would you say such a thing?!"
But I knew why. Scout had her audience. She got to provide the details she wanted to create the story she wanted them to hear.
She was a born fiction writer.