It was practically looking at me. Like it wanted a guided reading book too.
"All About Mrs. Lipstick" was the title.
How long has that been there? I wondered. Am I suppose to get rid of it? Can I just walk away and leave it for splattypus to clean up?
I glanced around the room. Will anyone see if I duck outside quickly?
I looked at it again and gagged.
I have my masters in education. I'm starting my phd in the fall. I could have gone to law school. In law school, I would not have to share my work space with large boogers.
The other day my undergraduate class news letter arrived. My classmates from college are off starting companies, announcing games for ESPN, becoming heads of their firms, clerking for this important judge or that important person, etc. etc. No where in the news letter did it mention large boogers.
I am going to get my phd to set myself on the track of spending even more time with other children's large boogers. What am I thinking?
Then I think about the book another child gave me that morning.
"All About Mrs. Lipstick" was the title.
"I like her hair. She is nice. She has nice clothes. I like Mrs. Lipstick"
Ok, not the most phenomenal piece of work out there, but you get the idea. No one is writing books about my classmates (well, not yet). If I was a lawyer no one would write an All-About book based on me. And if they did, they would not have given me perfectly straight hair drawn with a pencil and an extra-thick yellow crayon. So maybe there are a few boogers in my job. I can live with that.
As long as I don't have to clean it up.
Tomorrow's lesson- how to use a tissue.
1 comment:
Even with high school kids, I seemed to forever be asking, "Would you like a tissue?" or "Why don't you step outside for a moment and blow your nose?" Most were oblivious to the fact that a little green friend was hellbent on popping out join the class. Sigh.
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