everyone hates mondays

Monday, 9:50 AM

I thought I would post this so you guys can get an idea of just how engaging my lessons are. It should be noted that just 10 minutes before this, Simon, age 2, had busted through my door to announce his arrival, "I MADE IT TO SPANISH EVERYONE!"

rules are for following

One of the little boys in one of the three-year-old classes, Liam (different Liam), is the most adorably bossy kid I've ever met. He has this obsession with rules and making sure that everyone around him understands them. There are a couple of really nice books that I've repeatedly told the kids are for the teachers, not the students. He greeted me one morning by shoving one of these books in my face to clarify my rule.

Liam: "Miss Kathy, I know that these books are for the teachers and not the stupids."
Me: "Excuse me?"
Liam: "For the teachers, not the stupids."

Got that stupids? Don't touch my books.

arabian nights

This post has nothing to do with teaching but it is an excellent quote I collected from an 11-year-old boy at the Jordanian wedding I attended this weekend. Being among the few non-Arabs in attendance, a family of four boys and mine came together. I don't know if you've ever been to an Arab wedding, but it involves some serious dancing. I'm talking hours upon hours of dancing for at least a couple of consecutive nights. Saturday night, following the henna ceremony, was probably the longest dancing streak ever. A full 5 hours straight. And everyone was involved.

I've never been known to even recognize where my hips are, so my presence at this wedding alone was probably an embarrassment to all mankind. But these people were seriously getting down. When what seemed to be a belly-dancing song came on, this boy, Isaac, remarked, "Wow, even the fat ladies know how to move their junks."

Adorable AND respectful. Future of America, folks.

dora isn't the only explorer around these parts...in her head

This week, lots of kids were returning from fabulous trips to warmer climates since spring break happened just last week. Remember crazy-I-will-eff-you-up Katherine? She strolled in this morning and this is the conversation that followed:

Me: "Katherine! Where have you been all week?"
Katherine: "AUSTRALIA!"
(WOW! I thought. Those parents sound awesome!)
Katherine's Mom: "That's not true..."
Katherine: "You didn't let me finish...in my head..."

Sure, I'll take it. Later, during Spanish class, I overheard her talking to a group of about five other kids.

Katherine: "...and since I'm leaving for Mexico tomorrow, I really need to be careful with the chupacabras. Especially the purple kind."

Yet another lie. I'm definitely not qualified to diagnose this child, but seriously?? What the heck do her parents talk about at home??

my favorite child in the world

It should be noted that I am an excellent teacher and that I definitely show no preference towards any particular child at my school. This ought to be a given. Even still, there are situations that arise in which I find myself falling in love with one child more than the others to the point of considering how I can take him/her home without their parents having an issue.

If I had to chose one kid to fit this scenario, it would have to be one little boy with a huge head of messy bright blond hair (his mother claims she can't tame his wild mane...I actually believe her because one time I tried and my fingers got tangled up in the hot mess). Regardless of his inability to maintain a coiffed 'do, I LOVE HIM. He was moved up early from his regular 2-year-old class to a 3-year-old classroom because he was just too smart. The other day, as I released the little ones from my lecture to their activity, he lagged behind and randomly said, "Miss Kathy, I only like to listen to smooth jazz in my car."-Liam, age 3 (freshly!).

Note taken small child...for when I put you in my own car and love you for always!

feisty people

I really don't even have a background story for this quote. It just kind of happened.

"You should always be afraid of people with long nails. They're always so feisty"-Philip, age 3.

I really can't even explain. I just bursted out laughing and he looked at me like I was laughing at the Holocaust. Shame on me for taking this matter lightly.

do you know something?

In one of my classes, I have the dreamiest little 4-year-old on the face of this earth. His name is Jacopo, he speaks with a very obvious Italian accent, wears the sweetest outfits, and begins most statements with a, "Do you know something?..."

This week's theme at school was dental hygiene so I taught a lesson on brushing your teeth and made them learn the Spanish words for teeth, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

Me: "...and in Spanish toothpaste is pasta."
Jacopo: "Do you know something? Pasta?? That is like pssghetti! In Italy we love to EAT pasta! I am from Pisa, but not the kind you eat. The kind you live in. Did you know that Miss Kathy? You can live in Pisa?"

Do you know something? It sounds like I need to move to Pisa. To live there, not to eat it. And to find myself a stud. Just like Jacopo.