Kids…

So, a friend sent me a great idea today, she said (since I can’t manage prompts) maybe have some themed posts that I can fall back on like “Moments with Sir” that I kind of have going.  Another of her suggestions was “Kids say the Darnedest Things” or something along those lines.

I realized that I specifically avoid talking about my job or students on this blog because… I feel weird combining them with… my sex life.  Which maybe is weird and paranoid.  And, of course, I’m not combining them.  They are two separate topics which both happen to exist as a part of my life.

Yet I feel weird about it.

Maybe it’s shame about my sexuality and the way I have to hide it, particularly, because of my job.

I don’t know.  I probably won’t ever be able to post comfortably with any frequency about my students or nieces or god kids (even the one who is an adult…)  But I did have a fun moment of kid logic today.

“It’s not my fault!  The substitute didn’t stop me!” (from doing the thing he knew was explicitly against the rules and which no one else in the class was doing…)

Same kid earlier in the day, “I’m not eating candy!” (inarticulate because cheeks are literally bulging with candies and as a piece of candy falls out of his mouth as he is speaking…)

I keep saying, someday I should write a book of things I hear myself saying at work…

“We do NOT throw poop on other people!”

“We do NOT lick furniture in fourth grade!”

“No, brine shrimp eggs are not poisonous if you swallow them but…  Wait… Why???”

“DON’T EAT THE SCIENCE CHEMICALS!”

“Where are your pants?”

“That is a rock!  Rocks are not food!”

“You are not a cat.”

“Please stop biting my leg.”

“The class can’t hear the lesson over your mooing, please stop.”  (Literal mooing.)

“We do not walk to group on our hands!”

“No!  Bicycle pedals are for feet!”

“You may not participate in group upside down.”

“We do not roll to group.”

“No… how many fingers… no… on this hand… no… the hand I’m showing you… no… my hand… how many fingers… no… this hand… how many fingers… not your hand.  My hand.  Touch my hand.  How many fingers.  No… 1…2… no… count each finger one time…”  (This is not a special needs child, at least… not that kind of special needs…)

And because this is my life every day…

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