Super Powers

One morning, I was approached by one of the boys, who often has itches on his back. He asked if I would snip the tag off of his shirt because it was bothering him. I declined his request, and said that his mom may not want me to cut the tag. Bewildered, he looked at me and said, "Well, my mom super powers to do that".

Caught in the Act

It isn't uncommon for the kids to impolitely remind me of things I do or don't do according to themselves. Like, if the napkins aren't passed out in 5 seconds flat, someone is so kind to remind me that they don't have a napkin and the implication that it must be a malicious act against him or her, is made obvious.
The other day I had a similar kind of moment. I was reminded, however, not about something that I had forgotten per se. It was one of those mornings that the class was having a hard time listening, and certain kids needed firm reminders of behavior. After scolding one rascally kid, sweet Kameron looks up at me and asks if I am done being mad. He got me. Now, I wasn't mad really, just trying to enforce the use of kind words or obedience, which occasionally requires a not-so-friendly voice. I definitely made a point to make my happiness known the rest of the day.

Asking the Right Questions

I was able to have a delightful chat with one of the girls, Amanda, who I usually don't have the opportunity to have one-on-one time. During recess, she needed to stand by me for whatever reason (not because she was in trouble), so I took advantage of that, scooped her up and we had a nice long talk. Some of the highlights that are appropriate:

She is the only child in this class who admits to being small. Everyone else is insistent they are big, not Ashley. A:"I'm not really big, I'm just little."
Me: How do you know you're little?
A: Because I wear small undies. (Side note: she and her sister will never use the word panties, no matter how many times it is said around them, they are always quick to correct that blunder. "Silly, girls wear undies!") And my mom has undies, but my dad doesn't.
Me: (hiding my laughter) Oh.
A: And, you gotta change your undies to clean after they're dirty.
Me: How do you know when they're dirty?
A: You have them on and then they're dirty.
Me: Huh, good thinking.

Then the subject got switched to who is the boss... :)
Me: Does Amanda act bossy to you at home sometimes?
A: No.
Me: Well, that's good. Who is the boss, then?
A: My dad.
Me: How do you know he's the boss?
A: Because he gets the ice cream--balella (vanilla)
Me: Oh, is your mom the boss, too?
A: No, but she finishes the ice cream.

A conversation well worth my time. Ha 

New Years Shopping

Tonight, as I strolled the isles at Target looking at all the cute home decor, I heard a small voice calling for his mom. This boy wans't lost, just playing hide and seek, don't be alarmed. After searching for a few isles (he's walking towards me), I think he started to get at little fearful because he called out to his mom, "Ok. I'm going to use my sense of smell to find you now!" Priceless, and what do you know? It worked.

Who is a Dad?

In the recent weeks, it has come to my attention that there is a serious relationship barrier for the vast majority of the kids in my class. I was given a very artfully crafted paper with the instructions to give it to my dad, which I of course did. As I was presenting this piece of treasure to my actual dad, he posed the question, "Did this little boy mean for me to give his work of art to my husband, Josh?" When given the artwork, I did ask a carefully thought out clarifying question to determine whether my dad, or my husband was to receive the gift. Response: my dad. Then, today, the same little boy gifted another piece of his art to Tess's dad, and since she is only 4, there was no question who the recipient would be. So, I decided to do a little more investigating. During lunch, I grabbed my family photo, and asked the kids to point to which guy in the picture was my dad. I'd guess 85% of the kids pointed to Josh, my husband. The kids who waited to answer picked up that maybe he wasn't really my dad and pointed to my real one. Maybe they're just better at distinguishing age...who knows. I tried to explain the difference between my dad, who raised me, and Josh, my husband that I am married to, except I didn't mention the word marriage or married because the really don't get it even more than dad's and husbands.

The difference is: My dad helped me grow up from a little girl to a big girl. My husband is my very best friend that I didn't meet until I was big, and now we're in love, and I wear rings on my finger to show that we love each other. Their complacent stares assured me that I had made little progress. They're hung up on me not living with my mom, so of course the guy I do live with, is my dad, and the me not having kids thing contributes a little to this mix up, too, I think.

Snarky Comments

You know those times when you ask a rhetorical question, and someone answers anyway. Yeah, 3 year olds always answer, too. And I know their intent isn't to be smart alecks. I mean, you can't blame them, they love to show off their smarts.

Example 1: It was one of those days when the kids must have had straight sugar for breakfast, and we're feeling more rambunctious then usual. They were not listening for anything, so Mrs. Penny posed the question, "When Mrs. Penny is talking, are you supposed to be talking?"; the kids chorus, "No". So, then she asks them, just to be clear, "Who else should be talking while I'm talking?". The answer: "God". (I turned around and excused myself to the bathroom to laugh.)

Example 2: Every month the kids are taught a new memory verse or two, so November 1, we began to learn Psalms 118:1 "Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever." Mrs. Penny asked the kids when God's love will end, hoping for an answer about His love lasting forever. Nope. A little girl pipes up and says that God's love will end today . A rewording was in order, I think.