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On Friday I volunteered in Senor Onion's classroom. As usual we had a delightful time. I was in charge of art and the major class project was doing this sort of large picture of a farm. It was mixed-medium and allowed for a lot of creativity. (there was real hay to stick to the paint, cut-outs of animals, unusual materials used to give texture to things and so on) It was a pretty good day as the kids were fairly calm and engaged playing pretty cheerfully. Senor Onion and a couple of friends spent a fair amount of time building an elaborate railroad track. The child who is formally known as the unpleasant child was not having a great day. He seemed on the emotionally fragile side of things and broke down a lot when the other kids weren't into following his brand of charisma. He is used to being the natural leader of the class and that day the kids weren't feeling it. They weren't mean or anything but they were more occupied with other fun. It is the natural flow of the class. Snack Nazi sent in a babysitter today to handle her volunteer day. The babysitter was the physical stereotype of the current-day hipster. It was as if she was filling a quota of "must have this many ironic accessories to ride this fixed bike." She had a sort of mullet, Sally Jesse Raphael glasses of the mid-80s, some American Apparel Ts, A badly knitted ugly scarf, a pseudo-vintage 80s skirt, leg-warmers and a great multitude of bangles on her arm. Old-school Madonna would have been proud. The final piece in this look was a tattoo on her chest that you could see peeking out of her shirt. There were antlers. Antlers. It was much to take in.
BUT she was a great kid, incredibly helpful and totally game to play with the kids. I liked her a lot. My hope and dream is that Snack Nazi never comes in and just sends in this adorable young lady. She sat and talked to the kids, totally got into doing play-dough, helped out with building a rail-road and was on the ball when helping to tidy. Sure her taste in tattoos is sketchy but we can always use an delightful hipster kid.
A few people have asked about Snack Nazi's husband -wondering if he was a raging alcoholic or something. He is actually a very chill individual -almost zen. When he has come in to help out he is quite nice. He is Dutch and very gentle with his child and really understands his kid's personality. So there you go. You never know with people.
Life has taken a turn for the scatological when it comes to humor with Senor Onion. At Snack-time on Friday I was sitting with five little boys. They kept taking their food and going, "This tastes like Poooooooo!!! EWWWWWWWW!" "This tastes like WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! EWWWWWWWWWW" Then they would laugh wildly and eat their snack. I noticed over at the next table there were some girls. They were eating their snack and talking about their day. Dave Barry talked about this sort of thing. When his son was about three or four, he and some friends took the boys out for a treat to McDonalds. The boys were acting like crazed psychopaths doing god knows what. He noticed at the next table there were some girls about the same age. He said they were sitting there like miniature humans. Eating their meal and having a conversation. He looked back at the boys. They were trying to stuff fries up their nose, kill each other and stage-dive off of the table.
Yes. There is a definite difference in personalities at that age. Not that the girls are all sweetness. I have witnessed some weird emotional power-plays between the girls.
This "OMG IT IS POOP" talk has come home. Senor Onion and I have this joke we play where we will suggest outlandish things for dinner. "Let's have aardvark for dinner!!!" "Nooo too many ants." "Let's eat trucks for dinner." "Nooo too oily and the chrome is hard to digest" and so on. Senor Onion took the shock-value route and said, "Let's have POOP for dinner!!!" and of course you get much laughter if you respond, "EWWWWWWWWWWWWW"
I try not to give too much attention to it. Though I had to laugh when he said, "You can have Poop for dinner. I am having waffles." I am guessing I would get to prepare the waffles. What a guy.
BUT she was a great kid, incredibly helpful and totally game to play with the kids. I liked her a lot. My hope and dream is that Snack Nazi never comes in and just sends in this adorable young lady. She sat and talked to the kids, totally got into doing play-dough, helped out with building a rail-road and was on the ball when helping to tidy. Sure her taste in tattoos is sketchy but we can always use an delightful hipster kid.
A few people have asked about Snack Nazi's husband -wondering if he was a raging alcoholic or something. He is actually a very chill individual -almost zen. When he has come in to help out he is quite nice. He is Dutch and very gentle with his child and really understands his kid's personality. So there you go. You never know with people.
Life has taken a turn for the scatological when it comes to humor with Senor Onion. At Snack-time on Friday I was sitting with five little boys. They kept taking their food and going, "This tastes like Poooooooo!!! EWWWWWWWW!" "This tastes like WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! EWWWWWWWWWW" Then they would laugh wildly and eat their snack. I noticed over at the next table there were some girls. They were eating their snack and talking about their day. Dave Barry talked about this sort of thing. When his son was about three or four, he and some friends took the boys out for a treat to McDonalds. The boys were acting like crazed psychopaths doing god knows what. He noticed at the next table there were some girls about the same age. He said they were sitting there like miniature humans. Eating their meal and having a conversation. He looked back at the boys. They were trying to stuff fries up their nose, kill each other and stage-dive off of the table.
Yes. There is a definite difference in personalities at that age. Not that the girls are all sweetness. I have witnessed some weird emotional power-plays between the girls.
This "OMG IT IS POOP" talk has come home. Senor Onion and I have this joke we play where we will suggest outlandish things for dinner. "Let's have aardvark for dinner!!!" "Nooo too many ants." "Let's eat trucks for dinner." "Nooo too oily and the chrome is hard to digest" and so on. Senor Onion took the shock-value route and said, "Let's have POOP for dinner!!!" and of course you get much laughter if you respond, "EWWWWWWWWWWWWW"
I try not to give too much attention to it. Though I had to laugh when he said, "You can have Poop for dinner. I am having waffles." I am guessing I would get to prepare the waffles. What a guy.
