(Print) Use this randomly generated list as your call list when playing the game. There is no need to say the BINGO column name. Place some kind of mark (like an X, a checkmark, a dot, tally mark, etc) on each cell as you announce it, to keep track. You can also cut out each item, place them in a bag and pull words from the bag.
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Wish I could do my work in
the early morning before
the sun’s so fierce. But I
don’t complain. I take off
my shirt finally, wrap it
around my head to keep
the sweat out of my eyes,
and I keep on.
His father leaned down
the table and put his big
hand on top of Jess’s
hand. He gave his wife a
quick, troubled look. But
she just stood there, her
eyes full of pain, saying
nothing.
All of the kids stared at
her with open mouths as
if she had just stepped
off a spaceship from
another planet.
I’m not staying here,
that’s for sure.”
Rob felt a familiar
loneliness rise up and
drape its arm over his
shoulder.
“Look!” She waved her
spelling test. “A gold
star!” She twirled on
tippy-toe. “I didn’t miss a
word!” She spun around
and around like a little
ballerina on a music box.
My face goes bright red,
I can feel it. Now sweat
is pouring down from my
armpits like somebody
turned on a faucet.
Behind her turned up
glasses, Mrs. Myers’
narrow eyes were full of
tears.
“Writing is not about magic.
It is about hard work.”
There was a silence in the
room. Papa looked at me.
His eyes were very shiny.
“You know,” said Papa, “I
think you are smarter than
I am.”
Panic shimmered through
his body, tiny hammers
hitting glass. He could
shatter, he felt, in a
moment, and he gulped
air, trying to calm
himself.
I leap out of bed, thrust
my feet into my
sneakers, and with my
shoelaces flying, I’m
racing through the
kitchen toward the back
door.
March checked the time.
He drummed his fingers
on his leg.
March felt perspiration
under his collar. He kept
his restless hands in his
pockets.
Rob stood and considered
her words. He felt them
on his skin, like shards of
broken glass. He was
afraid to move. He was
afraid of how deep they
might go inside him.
Jess stole a look at
Leslie. Her face, bent
low over the math
sheet, was red and
fierce.
Tabby’s eyebrows
disappeared up into the
scrunchie of her
ponytail.
-Tripping Over the Lunch
Lady by Lee Wardlaw
As Mitch whizzed past,
he kicked at Hobie’s
knee. Pain shot through
Hobie’s leg. He crumpled
in a heap.
The café hung
breathless, like a
pendulum at the top of
its swing.
Free!
Dale blinked, and then
smacked himself on the
forehead.
