biography book report, water bottle person, how to make a bottle person, soda bottle person, biography project, kid’s biography class project

 

Dear Jeff,


Happy Birthday! Since I spent all of President’s Day pouring over your biography for my son’s first book report, I figured we should be on a first name basis. And, well, since my son and I have now immortalized you with craft foam and an apple juice bottle, I feel like we’re kinda tight.

Out of the hundreds, maybe thousands of kid-appropriate biographies at the library, my son picked yours. This was no easy feat. He wandered the aisle scuffing his skate shoes, feigning no interest in sports heroes or dead politicians. We couldn’t find any books about the captain of the Titanic or the creator of Legos. Just before I thrust Sacajawea’s bio into his hands he said, “What about Jeff Kinney? He’s kinda cool.” 

Indeed.

And what do you know. . .your bio was just waiting there on the shelf for him. My kid who hates to write (yet thankfully loves to read and draw) picked an author as the one person in the world he wanted to lean more about. Zoo-wee, mama!

Now, getting him to read your biography was no problem. To a 9-year-old kid, you’re as cool as a video game character (with your own mack daddy turbo blasters).  I owe you a big chunk of thanks for writing books boys like to read. Apparently, reading to him since he was a blob of cells and watching his parents devour hundreds of books a year wasn’t enough to inspire him. I mean, we’re his parents. But your books hooked him. My kid ran out to buy The Third Wheel with his own birthday money the day it came out. Instead of Legos. There is no higher honor. I was so dang proud I nearly cried.

Book read: check. 

Report written. . .  Now, this child watches me write book reviews (essentially book reports, right?) and write rewrite edit work on my own novel for hours each day. But getting him to write a book report made pulling teeth seem like a beach vacation day. (Seriously. The kid’s had three oral surgeries. Boatloads more fun.) I suppose I should have tried threatening him with the cheese touch.

Then there was the whole decorate a two-liter bottle to look like a replica of your “Famous Person!” bit.  This will be fun for you AND YOUR FAMILY. Maybe for Martha Stewart’s family, but the crafty gene somehow slipped from our DNA strands.

But  I think we did a pretty decent job. It’s not Michelangelo’s David, but hey, it works. The head even rotates (I think our Jeff might do a few Linda Blair imitations—minus the pea soup—we’re talking 3rd grade boys here.) I think you’re going to be a hit come biography book report presentation day.

Once again, Happy Birthday. (And I only know this because it took a half hour of prodding to get my kid to write that first report sentence stating when and where you were born.) I’ll bet you’re the only guy you know who receives a picture of foamy juice bottle mini-me for his special day. Fame has its perks.

And  thanks again for writing books that somehow make reading cool for boys. The world needs more of them.

Cheers!

I’m only providing a brief overview of how we cobbled this project together because I figure there must be other parents out there more clueless than me. Like my husband—if he had to figure this out.

• 64 oz juice bottle — we used one with 2 flat sides so the glue adhered better
• craft foam for clothes & skin
• masking tape ring or bottom of an oatmeal canister (about 1-2 inches thick)
• googly eyes (optional)
• more foam or construction paper for hair
• good old Elmer’s glue
• 2 popsicle sticks
• markers 
• scissors 
• props

Clean out the bottle. (We almost forgot that step.) Decide upon your “famous person’s” attire. I recommend using regular paper to make a pattern before you mess up your crafty foam. We wrapped a sheet of blue foam around the bottom half of the bottle and cut out a V to make jeans. For the shirt, we cut a hole in the center of our “shirt” foam and placed it over the top of the bottle. We cut slits in each side to wrap around the sides and make sleeves. Cut out foam arms to fit into sleeves. Cut out hands and fingers if you’re feeling so inspired. Slather foam with Elmer’s and push into place. (A few pieces of tape or clothes pins may help hold foam in place while it dries.) 

For the head: trace around your tape or oatmeal container circle on the foam. Cut out. Cut a strip wide enough for the sides. Slather strip with glue and wrap around. With a hole punch (or scissors), punch two holes in the bottom. Insert popsicle sticks about an inch. This makes your neck and attaches the head. Run glue around the edges of each side then attach the big circles for the front and back of head. Once dry, decorate however you like. (We used construction paper for hair, markers to draw face, and googly eyes.) 

Sorry if your head on sticks freaks you out, Jeff.

Don’t forget to add a few props for your person’s famous talent/skill/whatever. I printed out a picture of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and we glued it to some cardboard for strength. Kiddo made a pencil from a popsicle stick. We glued to the hands. Instant writer.




{An aside to all my homeschooling friends: this is why I could never, EVER, take on that responsibility. This one little project about killed me. This is also another example of why I’m thrilled to have one kid. Good luck to the rest of you…}