Last night after school, Miss P, Miss EB, and I joined Nuna at bingo. Yes, we de-stressed by hanging out with the elderlies and listening to numbers being quickly spouted out. It's a whole new culture there, let me tell you what. I'm not sure if I'm more disturbed by having to hear a bingo caller clearly insinuate something dirty about a certain number under the letter O or my own Nuna telling me that older people still think about some "things." Not my own grandmother! In my happyland, grandmothers and grandparents are reverent creatures who give treats and hugs and kisses. "That" side of them is detached in my head (even though I know it to be a reality).
Speaking of grandparents, on Thursday, I forgot my lunch on the kitchen counter. I got to school and chastised myself for the moment of memory loss, then accepted I'd be buying lunch from the cafeteria. Well, about 10am, Mrs. W. comes by holding up my very obvious "Chelsea" lunchbag (yes, it's a Vera Bradley lunchbag... the color is called Chelsea Green. I only bought it because it was on sale when I bought my purse last year!). The kids look her way, and I look her way with an obvious look of "how did you get my bag?!"
"Your grandpa dropped this off for you," she says, holding in a laugh.
"Miss F, you don't have to buy lunch now! You have your lunch now!" the kids chime.
"I know, my Poppi brought it for me. Wasn't that so nice of him?"
"Yeah, that is so nice!"
After my kids go to Art, I go to the office and get a laugh from the office ladies.
"You made your grandpa come all the way from Va Beach for your lunch!?"
"I didn't even call him!"
"He came in here, saying 'This is my grandbaby's lunch, I need to give it to her!'"
It was a nice moment, and I felt special enough that he came all the way out there for a measly lunchbag. But I don't doubt it one bit that he was probably also getting the scoop on the school. He now deems it a good neighborhood and school, therefore, he has given his approval of where I am teaching. haha
So the lunch conversations with the kids were the same.
"Miss F, I bet I know what kind of sandwich you have again today!!!"
"Oh?"
"You have the RAISINS again! Peanut butter and the raisins!"
I showed my sandwich to all the boys (who seem to always sit at my end of the table... which, trust me, is a good thing. I always have to eagle-eye them, so they make it quite easy for me when I have to tell DS to stop touching J or T to sit down or J to stop taking people's appleseeds). For some reason, they get the biggest kick out of what I put in my lunch.
Yeah, appleseeds. I read maybe 3 pages of Gail Gibbons' Apples
, and since then, quite a few of my students are obsessed with apple facts. They get apples at lunch (which I'm not complaining about!), and then they want to collect the seeds. Now, this is cute to me. However, the non-cute part is the arguments and tears that have been shed about "missing appleseeds" (i.e., someone taking someone else's seeds). When there are no tears, it's really great to see kids babble on about growing apple trees of their own. :)- Miss Chelsea :)
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