(no subject)
Today I substituted in a fifth-grade classroom during their lunch/recess hour. I nearly screamed when I walked in and saw them en masse--I know perfectly well that I am of no very stately height, but there were half a dozen kids that I was literally looking up at! That said, I must seriously consider working with older children. Throughout the entire hour I was with them, I was thinking, "What? They can open their own milk cartons? They can tie their own shoelaces? They don't call me Mommy? What is this strange new world?"
In other news, I have a horror of toads. It's stupid and irrational, but I hate them. I hate toads and frogs and chameleons and...basically, most animals that aren't furry. So when little Ivan hurried up to me during recess with a big blue bucket and a wide smile, calling, "Miss Lee, Miss Lee! Look what I found!" and I glanced inside said bucket to see a toad hopping vainly about...well, let's just say that I was not as enthusiastic and encouraging as I ought to have been.
I jumped back and said, rather unconvincingly, "Oh...look what you found! Isn't that...exciting? A toad, just like in the story we read yesterday!" while trying to subtly back away. He followed, thoughtfully holding up the bucket so I could get a clear view of its contents, and he chirped, "Isn't that neat? I found it on the slide, and it was trying to hop up the slide, but it couldn't, so I put the bucket underneath it and it fell in! Would you like to hold it, Miss Lee? I'll give you a turn." He then scooped up the toad and advanced towards his by-then frozen teacher, in his youthful innocence unaware that it was anyone's guess as to whether paralysis or hysterics would win out if he actually put the toad into her hands.
Yes, I was low and cowardly and a poor excuse for a teacher. Fortunately, at that point, the other kindergarten teacher (Ms. J) called, "Ivan! You promised you'd set that free now!"
Ivan called back, "But I want Miss Lee to have a turn holding it!"
"Oh, that's quite all right," I babbled inanely. "It was nice of you to show your--uhh, friend to me, Ivan, thank you so much, we'll just say that looking at him counts as my turn...and..." So he let the toad go--thankfully, it hopped well away from me and under the fence.
Later, Ms. J. told me, "I told him twice that he had to let that go when he caught it, but he was all like, 'No! I want to show it to my teacher first, I want her to have a turn because she likes toads and read us a toad story!' It was really sweet, his first thought was that he wanted to bring it to you."
Yes. I know.
I am thoroughly sorry and guilty and ashamed of myself. Especially as I had given poor Ivan a time-out earlier that day.
In other news, I have a horror of toads. It's stupid and irrational, but I hate them. I hate toads and frogs and chameleons and...basically, most animals that aren't furry. So when little Ivan hurried up to me during recess with a big blue bucket and a wide smile, calling, "Miss Lee, Miss Lee! Look what I found!" and I glanced inside said bucket to see a toad hopping vainly about...well, let's just say that I was not as enthusiastic and encouraging as I ought to have been.
I jumped back and said, rather unconvincingly, "Oh...look what you found! Isn't that...exciting? A toad, just like in the story we read yesterday!" while trying to subtly back away. He followed, thoughtfully holding up the bucket so I could get a clear view of its contents, and he chirped, "Isn't that neat? I found it on the slide, and it was trying to hop up the slide, but it couldn't, so I put the bucket underneath it and it fell in! Would you like to hold it, Miss Lee? I'll give you a turn." He then scooped up the toad and advanced towards his by-then frozen teacher, in his youthful innocence unaware that it was anyone's guess as to whether paralysis or hysterics would win out if he actually put the toad into her hands.
Yes, I was low and cowardly and a poor excuse for a teacher. Fortunately, at that point, the other kindergarten teacher (Ms. J) called, "Ivan! You promised you'd set that free now!"
Ivan called back, "But I want Miss Lee to have a turn holding it!"
"Oh, that's quite all right," I babbled inanely. "It was nice of you to show your--uhh, friend to me, Ivan, thank you so much, we'll just say that looking at him counts as my turn...and..." So he let the toad go--thankfully, it hopped well away from me and under the fence.
Later, Ms. J. told me, "I told him twice that he had to let that go when he caught it, but he was all like, 'No! I want to show it to my teacher first, I want her to have a turn because she likes toads and read us a toad story!' It was really sweet, his first thought was that he wanted to bring it to you."
Yes. I know.
I am thoroughly sorry and guilty and ashamed of myself. Especially as I had given poor Ivan a time-out earlier that day.