I have teleported to a land where people are shorter than me. Also, they love my jewelry. I know of no better response than to curtsy in the middle of my higher level instruction.
Surprising similarities abound, however, between the youngsters and the older youngsters over whom I wardened previously.
- They share a passion for bathing in hand sanitizer.
- They want their hands on walls when they walk in the hall—this may have something to do with the hand sanitizer obsession.
- They go through pencils a la woodchucks chucking wood
- Sweet, darling girls declare their love in heart-encrusted notage on a daily basis. “I love you so so so so so much. Do you have a heart of love?”
- “Miss Peachy! Miss Peachy! It’s almost Halloween! In the store, I saw bones (skeletons)! Not real ones!”
- After lunch: “I’m soooooo tired. Can we watch a movie? What about a video?”
They do rival my older classes in the hypochondriac department, however. Clearly, I am poised for another banner year in my relationship with the school nurse. Their necks hurt, their shoulders hurt, their eyes hurt, and lord knows their TUMMIES hurt! I am filled with gratitude when I recall the day in history that gave rise to this post: wheelchair . Also, this one: more wheelchairs in education.
Even the full moon wasn’t too bad. Unless you count the fire drill. During which half of my class migrated to the first grade line, and almost walked to the corner store.