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Cool story bro!

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  • Joined:  11/25/09
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Hey Aramanth, ol' buddy!

 

You bet I do! I MUST tell you another one of my boring stories. In my career, I never had the chance to teach Infants (age 5 - 8). Except once... I was absolutely woeful at keeping my fifth graders in order for Sport (remember, I'm a stitcher and a sewist and a reader, NOT a sportswoman). So our Kindergarten teacher sidled up to me one day and made me a proposition. "You take my Kinders for Music and I'll take yours for Sport."

 

"Oho!" I thought, "Happy Day!" So I polished up me trusty old guitar and set off for Kindergarten. I had the kids warbling away in minutes. In fact we raised the roof! Everyone who passed by Kindergarten Room looked in and smiled benignly (just like in the scene from "Flying High"). There was one little boy who kept putting up his hand and saying (through missing front teeth) "Ith pith, ith pith, ith pith!" and pointing to a little Botticelli angel who was seated in the class beanbag and singing her blessed little lungs out. I told him to sit down and if he was quiet, he could have a turn in the bean bag later. He blanched and sat straight down, not to murmur again. All the kids bellowed laughing, but caught up in my great performing success, I paid no attention.

 

A couple of hours later, when Joan (the foul, wicked schemer) returned, beaming, with my class in breathless tow, I greeted her happily: "Hello Mrs Woods! Kindergarten has been singing beautifully today". Waiting modestly for congratulations, I was a bit non-plussed when she looked past me at the serenely beatific little girl in the bean bag. "Jennifer!!! Oh no!!!" she croaked.

 

Lifting the child, she revealed an enormous puddle gathering in the bean bag. Apparently, the boy who stood up had the permanent engagement of telling when Jennifer approached the bean bag. She had a penchant for relieving herself in it and did so at every opportunity. She had in fact been doing so for the whole afternoon as we sang our merry way through two hours of singing and p**ing. That was the day I decided I would prefer to teach the older, toilet trained kids and leave the Jennifers to the more hardy types.

 

Sorry for going on and on - I could keep going, but I'll stop now.

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