Beauty in the day: the principal came in from recess with a story to tell. Apparently he had just finished intervening with two very young girls who were engaged in a sort of, “slap fight”. He demonstrated this kind of childish, flailing hands kind thing. “The funny thing about it was the REASON for the conflict. It turns out they were playing a make-believe game about magical things. One girl was in charge of granting the other girl’s wish.”
“I would like an invisible cape!”
The other girl granted this wish easily, or so it would seem. The wish became more complicated, as the first girl clarified that the cape should be “sparkly pink”.
The grantor explained that, no, the invisible cape was most certainly NOT sparkly pink.
Now, the first girl was rather put-out at this point, and again asserted that the cape should absolutely be sparkly pink.
The second girl disagreed again, and this is about where the slap fight started.
The principal mediated, and, listening to the explanations of what had taken place, asked the wish-grantor why she didn’t just agree that the invisible cape could be a sparkly pink one?
She exhaled and rolled her eyes. “If it’s INVISIBLE, then it wouldn’t have any COLOR.”
Although I beg to differ here, I do see where she was going with that.
Beauty in the day: his teacher brought him in to the office. He’d been there before, more than once (more than twice) under less-than-optimal circumstances.
“Ms. Nordstrom, if you have a minute, My Friend has something to show you.” I did have a minute, and I could see the news was good. I took a minute to tease him a bit, telling him not to smile while he told me his news. Naturally, this was a terribly difficult command, but he did try. He was unsuccessful, both at not smiling, and at getting the news out, since it’s hard not to smile when you feel very happy, and it’s hard to get the news out when your teacher is so proud she beats you to it. “My Friend has had a very good day!” She started to show me his chart, all filled up with goodness, and Her Friend was turning every shade of happiness, as his teacher used descriptions like, “he CRUSHED his math!” Letting inspiration take hold (and having whooped and hollered and high-fived, and used other exclamations like, “NO WAY!!!), I got out my phone to take pictures of his proofs to send to the principal, who was out of the office for the day. “OmiGOSH! I can’t wait for him to see this stuff, dude!” I told him. “I’m going to text it to him right away!”
They left the office then, and I sent the pictures. I know my principal, and tomorrow Her Friend is going to get another shower of glory.
THIS is school. And I can tell you’re all jealous.
Beauty in the day: my boss has values that are very much like most of us – and some that are a smidge different. For instance, today I was informed (amidst several lengthy bunny trails) that if he got too verbose in his explanations of things, he would respect and would value me saying “shuttie” (his coined word) while making a “close your mouth” gesture with my hand.
It’s always good to know what your boss values, so you can get on the same page.
Beauty in the day: my boss came to fill in for the Summer School principal. The kids were excited to see him, and he was enjoying seeing them. He did lunch duty, went out to the recesses, and took care of a few “fires” throughout the day. As school was letting out, we were standing in the office having a discussion. He suddenly stopped mid-sentence and exclaimed, “Oh! There’s that little girl!” He immediately trotted away, and explained over his shoulder as he passed, “I promised to teach her how to beat box!”
Somewhere out there is a little girl with a new skill.
Beauty in the day: sometimes you have to stay way late if you want a good beauty. Tonight was Kindergarten information night – and we provide childcare for parents who come. Teresa Garcia was handling this task, with a bit of help from Mr. Jones. After I gave my portion of the presentation, I decided to go lend a hand, as they were in the gym, which adjoins the Cafe – meaning that we could hear them (it must be said here that one of the ones that could be heard was Ms. Garcia herself – no one enjoys kids, or is enjoyed by kids more than she). As I joined I was the new fascination in the room, and the kids wanted to know my name and what I did at the school. I obliged them with answers.
Time went by, and the principal (who was in the Cafe with the parents) was trying to wind things up and was answering questions from them. The kids were getting restless, and beginning to get a little demanding (as only pre-kindergarteners can), and I tried to take a tack with them. “Omigosh you guys, wouldn’t it be SO FUNNY if your parents came to get you , and you were laying on the gym mats pretending to be ASLEEP?!!??” I guess a little over 50% of the kids decided that it WOULD be funny, so they all laid on the mats and gave their best sleep rendition. For some this was complete with very convincing snoring – except their eyes were open. Only one closed his eyes – no snoring, but he honestly looked dead to the world, flat on his back with his eyes closed. He really meant it. The kids pretend-slept for way longer than kids normally do this, and I was impressed. The other near-50% that didn’t want to sleep continued with their running and jumping and hopping and yelling. One little girl with a very long braid was appalled that other kids would lay down and “sleep” when it was not bedtime, and there were other options. So much so, that she came over and began yelling for them to “WAKE UP!!!!!” – at the top of her lungs, actually. The sleepers were not moved from their challenge – which is a very difficult thing to maintain when you are 4 or 5 years of age. I was totally impressed.
Class of 2029, folks. They’ve got chops.
Beauty in the day: the principal came into the office with a look on his face. He had a story to tell. “So,” he began, “the little kindie guy was in the hall just now, and he was struggling with his zipper. So I stepped in to the rescue, and told him that I am a PRO at zippers! So I bent down, and saw that his zipper was hardly even attached! I just ‘popped!’ it right out, showing him that it was no longer stuck.” He paused – apparently for effect, since he had a “Paul-Harvey-rest-of-the-story” to relay.
“Apparently though, he wasn’t having trouble getting his jacket unzipped after all,” he smiled in a semi-embarrassed manner, “he was having trouble getting it ZIPPED.”