But I like them. Seriously, even on days when they drive me crazy, I find them fascinating. They’re just waking up to the world around them, and they have questions and insights and observations that can make me stop and think – or make me stop and laugh.
Over the years, I’ve written some of them down, such as when Taylor gasped, “Mrs. Acuna! Are you saying I’m a pyromaniac?” (She meant hypochondriac.) Or when Adam said, “Wow, you must be psycho!” (He meant psychic.) (Though the other may have merit.) Then there’s Emma, who was sure chickens had four legs.
One year when
a student prayed for the police to catch the cat burglar in his neighborhood, the rest of the class seemed unusually alarmed. I didn’t understand why until one nervous girl asked, “Somebody actually steals cats?”
Two tales from this past year stand out. One was when John began his presentation with, “I did my PowerPoint on Stoneface in England,” and the other when Amelia shared that her grandpa was out of the hospital and in rehab, after his stroke. I saw many raised eyebrows, so I had to quickly explain that he was not a drug addict; he was in physical rehabilitation.
I probably should stop telling people how much fun middle schoolers really are. The way things stand now, I have great job security.