These are the various reactions I got from my students:
"You love us?!"
(It seemed like a justifiable reason to scream for a few.)
"Ew, that means she even loves the girls."
Yeah, my class is full of keepers. I explained to my second graders that I didn't love them like a romantic love, the way you would love your boyfriend or girlfriend (something I really never thought I would have to explain to them). I told them I loved them how their parents or relatives love them. Sure, for some of them it's more like a crazy-third-cousin-twice-removed kind of love. Ya know, where the word love really becomes synonymous for tolerate. But it's love nonetheless.
Last Friday, we did a cool Halloween art project involving paint.
I was in a meeting all morning, and had to do the prep for it on the spot. As I was explaining what we would be doing to the class, I was also opening paint bottles, setting up sponges, and making sure that newspaper covered every surface in my classroom. The paint bottles required a little extra work because the seals on the top wouldn't come off very easily. I had to stab them with my scissors and ended getting paint all over my hands. The last paint bottle I opened was the red one and I had made quite a mess. I continued giving instructions and ignored the mess when a student interrupted me.
Student 1: Look! Teacher's hand is bleeding!
Me: (Looking down at my paint covered hand feigning surprise) AGH! I'm bleeding! Ha, no it's just the red paint. I'll clean it up in a sec.
Student 2: It's everywhere! Her hand is really bloody.
Me: Come on you guys, you saw me open the bottle, it is just red paint. I'll clean it up in a second.
Student 3: Teacher, there's blood all over your hands!
Me: (losing patience) Ok you guys, the joke has been made. The red paint on my hands looks like blood. Very funny.
Student 2: No teacher, it really looks like blood. Like a lot.
Me: (waving my red paint covered hand wildly) It is not blood! It is paint! Now will you all please just stop so we can get to work on this!?!
Student 1: Teacher, look at your other hand.
|Don't be silly kids, that's just paint! Also, this is not my hand, I found this on Google. I felt it illustrated the story nicely since I didn't actually stop to take a picture of the real deal.|
I look down and I am surprised to find that in my effort to quickly open the paint bottles I have sliced my finger open with my scissors and blood is dripping down my hand.
Me: Whoops. Thanks for looking out guys.
I went to the sink to clean up my red hands and my cursed scissors and to disinfect everything.
Later that afternoon we were having a perfect homework party (I do teach curriculum sometimes, too). We were decorating Halloween cookies. I came around with Twizzlers Pull 'N' Peels for them to decorate with but I didn't have enough for the class, so I was cutting them in half with scissors.
Kaitee: Are those the same scissors you cut your hand open with?
Damon: (With an eye roll) Great, first she loves us and now she wants us to eat her blood.
I'm telling you, I really do worry sometimes what these kids must be saying to their parents when they get home.
Today was every teacher's dream: Halloween on a Friday. We get to end the day with a party and then ship the little monsters off with their parents WITHOUT having to deal with their sugar crash the next day. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!
But of course the day couldn't go off without a hitch. We had made it through the first half of the day pretty smoothly and my kids knew that after lunch we would get to have our classroom party with all sorts of treats. AND after the party, all their parents were coming to watch them march in a parade through the school so they could show off their costumes. They were stoked. I had just sent them out to lunch recess when one of the third grade teachers came running down the stairs. Clearly alarmed, but in a soft voice she said to me (because there were still students around), "Grab your kids and get outside, the upstairs is filled with smoke. There's a fire."
I grabbed my emergency supplies and rushed out to the playground to find my students, who luckily remembered our meeting spot. The good news: we had just had a fire drill yesterday, so they knew exactly what they were supposed to do. The bad news: we had just had a fire drill yesterday, and they are smart enough to know we don't do two drills in a row.
I instantly had kids panicking and crying and causing all sorts of chaos. I sat them down and told them the firemen were on their way and we were all going to be fine. I felt so bad for the stress the situation was causing my kids, until I overheard their conversations. Like always, these are direct quotes.
Raj: All of my candy is going to burn up in the fire! WHY ME?!?
Luke: Dude, forget about the candy. What about the MATH!?!
Heidi: Ugh, I'm so hungry. I don't care if I burn, I just want to eat my lunch.
One of my little girls was sobbing uncontrollably, and I thought she was worried about her sisters that also attend the school. She finally calmed down enough to tell me:
Sam: What if... (sob) they cancel.... (sob) the parade? (sob).... and no one.... (sob)..... can see me (sob).... in my costume?
Don't worry, our school didn't burn down. Turns out one of the third grade teachers brought a smoke machine for her class party (so yes, she is obviously a way cooler teacher than me) and forgot to actually tell anyone about it. The parade went on as scheduled, and I must say, Cookie Monster killed it. Kids loved it, and I got to sit around in pajamas and eat cookies all day. Miss Earl for the win!