I never thought I could spend more than ten minutes with a room full of five-year-olds without losing my sanity and my teaching certification. Over the last week, though, I’ve spent upwards of an hour each day in one of the classes. I’ve been helping a long-term sub and it has been much more enjoyable than expected. My expectation was on par with root canal or sitting next to Crazy Uncle Larry at Christmas dinner, but I was pleasantly surprised. In kinder you hear gems like this one:
Me, during a read aloud: I bet your parents work hard, too.
Girl: My mom yes, my dad not really.
Or yesterday, I was watching them come into the room and thinking about how much I enjoy them and maybe my heart really isn’t two sizes too small when one of them walked up and proudly showed me she had lost a tooth during P.E. That was mildly nauseating, but it got much worse.
Another girl showed me the tooth, perched daintily on her glove and leaving blood spots on her white mitten.
Guess I spoke too soon.