Today while I was at work it started to pour. My director told a pair of five-year-olds that God was crying. "Why is God crying?" one of them asked. "He's mad at Rachel," the director said.
Then he told them, employing a blatant falsehood, that I was a Yankees fan. "She thinks the Red Sox stink," he lied. Instantly legions of Massachusetts children everywhere turned against me. "That is not nice and God doesn't like it!" the 5-year-old sternly told me.
Two hours later I inadvertantly gave a different 5-year-old the finger while I was helping him subtract 7 from 8. Which was still
not as funny as the conversation I had with another 5-year-old last week:
Him: "Can I tell you something?"
Me: "Yeah, tell me something!"
Him: "When my mommy was pregnant...I had nine million dollars."
Me: "...uh. What?"
I think, though I cannot prove, that he was trying to one-up the third-grader next to him, who moments before had told me dramatically: "Before I was born...my parents lived in a castle!"
Is it any wonder I inevitably leave my job with a headache?
Friday, September 29, 2006
The mouths of babes
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
hehehe...nine million dollars! that's cute. one of my students once asked me if i was pregnant. at the risk of sounding like bill cosby: where DO they get this stuff?
I frequently get asked if I'm married, because I happen to wear rings. Actually, today at the public library I checked out all these books on autism, and the woman on line behind me asked, "Are you writing a paper, or do you have a child?" I was wearing my work clothes, so it's possible I looked at least 21, but still, I was kind of stunned. "Uhhhh...I'm writing a paper." And one time I was jogging past my old elementary school, and someone asked me if I was a parent. It's like I either get taken for being ten years younger or ten years older than I actually am.
Post a Comment