In this column, professional speechwriter Chandler Dean provides partly satirical, partly genuine “How To” advice focused on a hyper-specific subcategory of speeches—from graduation speeches to wedding toasts to eulogies, and all the rhetorical occasions in between.

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Hey, guess what? Show-and-tell is coming up. That’s one of the best days of kindergarten ever. And that means you’ll be giving your very first speech of your whole life. (Unless you were valedictorian of your preschool, in which case I loved that inspiring story you told at commencement about how one time the cafeteria only had regular milk instead of chocolate milk, but you didn’t even cry.)

Here’s how to get an A+.

Bring something you think is awesome.

Here’s a secret: show-and-tell is not really about the object. Show-and-tell is about you. Whatever you pick lets your teacher and the other kids know a little bit about who you are. So you should choose something really cool that you love and know a bunch of stuff about.

In general, it’s way more fun to watch a speech if the speaker cares a lot about what they’re talking about. After all, if the speaker doesn’t care, why should the person listening care?

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a bad show-and-tell before—you might’ve been busy being born or spilling goldfish or whatever—but the last thing you want to do is get stuck up there stammering about some random thing your parents gave you at the last minute.

So, whatever you’re into—dinosaurs, princesses, astronauts, ponies, Minecraft, Minecraft streamers, compilations of Minecraft streamers, flowers—find an item from that world, and it should be much easier to talk about than something you don’t know that well.

But be careful:

Don’t bring something that you’ll get in big trouble if you lose it.

Whatever you want to bring, make sure your parents say it’s okay.

Remember: you barely know how to do anything at all. Odds are, you can walk, you can count to maybe one hundred, and you know how to get Paw Patrol on Mom’s iPad. But if someone gives you an object to carry for more than a few seconds, you have to understand that they have accepted, deep down, that they might never see that object again.

So don’t bring a precious family heirloom that can’t be replaced. Don’t bring something really expensive. Don’t bring your favorite toy if it’s one of those toys that even if your parents got you a new one, you would still be really sad because you know it’s not the same toy, and your real toy is somewhere cold and alone and missing its best friend.

Nope: get the sign-off from Mom or Dad. That way, when you lose your object, it’s really their fault. (Especially if you asked Dad.)

Then, before you leave for school:

Practice!

You might get nervous standing up in front of everybody—most people giving speeches do.

I can’t promise that practicing your show-and-tell a lot will prevent you from being nervous, but it can prevent you from messing up just because you’re nervous.

This is another good reason to pick an item that you really like: if it’s something you talk about a lot already, then you’ve already practiced. You can’t forget your lines if there’s nothing to memorize in the first place.

By the way, if you’re still trying to decide what you want to bring:

Hard to go wrong with something bright green.

Bright green stuff looks really cool and can be seen from far away.

Whatever you pick:

Show us what it is, and tell us why you like it.

This is what it’s all about. This is the moment that puts the “show” and “tell” in “show-and-tell.”

But that’s the thing: you’ve got to do both. Amateur kindergarteners—as opposed to elite pro kindergarteners like you, who read the literature before something as serious as show-and-tell—sometimes stop at “show.” They get up there, say, “This is a Hot Wheels,” and then choke. Not on the Hot Wheels, though. They just can’t come up with what to say next.

Below is a template—which is like a Mad Libs, but it doesn’t try to trick you—that you can use to fill in the blanks and deliver a perfect show-and-tell.

“This is [OBJECT].

[EXPLAIN WHAT IT IS AND WHAT IT DOES].

I got it [WHEN AND WHERE?] from [WHOM?].

I like it because [WHY?].

Thank you!"

Don’t forget that last part. Even grown-ups sometimes don’t know how to end a speech. They’ll take a long pause and say, “That’s all I have,” or just walk off the stage without saying anything. And then everyone has to go through one of the worst things about life, which is feeling awkward.

Whenever you’re done, you will feel the deep, powerful temptation to say something like “And, um, yeah,” or “So, uhhhhh, that’s it,” or “Mrs. McCleskey, can I sit down now?” But if you just say “Thank you!” loudly and clearly, everyone will know you’re done. And it’s polite.

Speaking of speaking loudly and clearly:

Talk as loud as you can without hurting yourself.

Just because you can hear what you’re saying doesn’t mean everyone else can. Their ears are really far away from your mouth—meanwhile, yours are on the same head.

So speak as if you’re trying to get the attention of the kids eating paste in the back of the room. And while you’re at it, do your teacher a favor and tell those kids to stop eating paste. Why would they even give kids paste anymore?

A confident show-and-tell that everyone can hear will get your classmates’ respect. On the flip side:

Pay attention to the other show-and-tells.

You should mostly do this because it’s the right thing to do. You’d want everyone else to pay attention to your show-and-tell, right?

As you grow up, you will also learn that one of the greatest skills in public speaking is to reference something that happened earlier in the event when it’s your turn to talk. It makes you look like a genius who cares—two of the best things to be and do.

For instance, maybe you brought a plush doll of Bingo from Bluey, but someone else already brought a plush doll of Bluey from Bluey. You will look really smart if you say something like “As my good friend Logan said…” before explaining the lore of Bluey for a second time.

Okay, if you’re a kid who’s good at school, you can skip this next part. But if school stresses you out, read on:

If you forget to bring something, do NOT tell your teacher. Wing it with something you already have.

Ultimately, you are five years old, and it’s amazing if you remember to do anything that anyone tells you to do. Nevertheless, if you tell your teacher that you didn’t come prepared for the assignment, they’re going to make it a whole thing. Your parents will find out and ask you annoying questions like, “Why didn’t you tell us that you had show-and-tell?” and “What other homework do you have?” Nobody wants this.

Instead, learn a valuable lesson you can carry into adulthood: if you act confident enough, everyone will assume you know what you’re doing.

What do you have in your pockets? Your backpack? Your cubby? Your desk? Do you have anything that you can talk about for thirty seconds? Bonus points if it isn’t a school supply—that will help make sure your teacher doesn’t catch on.

But even if it has to be a school supply, just try your best. A guy who you probably shouldn’t google once said, “Sell me this pen.” And that’s what you’ll be doing. If you’re showing and telling “glue,” really try to convince the room that you love that glue and chose it on purpose. Again, your teacher will probably know what’s going on, but at least you’ll have “plausible deniability”—which means “a chance that people might not yell at you.”

And there’s one other thing you should do if you don’t want anybody to yell at you:

If someone in the room is allowed to film with their phone, ask them to please film it.

First of all, your parents will want to have that video. But you will also want to have that video. I know today seems like just another school day and that kindergarten is taking forever. There are about another one hundred days left, and that’s basically infinity. But you might end up giving many speeches in your life, and you only give your first one once.

Record this moment, and then one day, when you’re older, wiser, and have gained the perspective that can only come with facing the harsh realities and profound beauties of life—when you are seven—you’ll get to look back and take pride in how much you’ve grown.

Don’t forget to end by saying, “Thank you!”

Ummmmm ya. I ran out of stuff to say. Sooooo, okay. Thank you!