Posts Tagged ‘Teaching’

A Triad of Sunday Silliness: One

In the deliciously bossy delight of older siblings who have started school and thus now have a model for ‘teaching,’–by which they mean ‘sanctioned sanctimonious overlording’, Kate has decided to ‘teach’ Mark a song over breakfast.

Kate:  “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitz.  His name is my name tooooo.  Whenever we go out, the people always shout, ‘there goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitz.  Lalalalala!  Okay, Mark,” she says, admonishing him with her spoon.  “I’ll sing the first line, then you sing the next.”

Mark (eyes flicking back and forth as he searches for an escape, but not finding one fast enough):  “Ooookkkaaay.”

Kate:  “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitz.”

Mark:  “His name is my name tooooo.”

Kate:  “Whenever we go out, the people always shout…”

She waits.  Mark’s eyes are dancing faster than ever, now with the hopeless knowledge  that she’s going to be annoyed with him.

Mark:  “Umm…”

Kate (louder):  “Whenever we go out, the people always shout…”

Mark (blurting it out like a Perry Mason bad guy):  “I have NO IDEA what the people always shout!”

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Zoo Class

If the Zoo Class people “lose” our address from their mailing list, it won’t come as a shock.

So Mark and I are at Zoo Class this morning, one about the Big Cats.  First he objects that he cannot sit in the little circle of carpet squares unless I come  too.  None of the other parents are doing this, but, hey, whatever it takes to keep him quiet, right?

Quiet?  HA.

There were six kids in this class.  FIVE sat on their little carpet squares, listening, and, occasionally, venturing a nod.  Then there was Mark.  Every question that was asked, he answered.  Loudly.  Usually, but  not always, correctly.

Soon it was time to lay out the tiger skin and everyone feel their thick thick fur, because they often live in cold places.

Mark touches the fur with two-handed enthusiasm, then jerks back.  “It’s  not alive, is it?”

“Not anymore,” the teacher assures him.

Now he’s even more disturbed.  “What happened to it!?”

“It just died!”  I hiss.

Usually at Zoo Class, there are live animals to meet–one of the highlights for Mark.  The teacher explains that she can’t bring in a REAL Big Cat for them to pet, but she has animals with things in common with cats.  Like this guinea pig, that has whiskers like a cat.

“If you listen closely,” the teacher says, “she squeaks sometimes.”

Mark:  “You mean she communicates?  What does she have to communicate?”

The teacher:  “Whether she’s happy or sad.”

Mark (petting the guinea pig):  “She’s not communicating with me.”

Apparently Mark is comfortable now, because he turns around and says, “I don’t need you anymore,” waving a hand that means I’m supposed to go sit with the other parents.  I do, with some trepidation–he’s now out of reach.  The teacher hauls out a ferret.

Mark:  “Is that a raccoon?”

Teacher:  “It sort of looks like a raccoon, but this is a ferret.”

Mark:  “Does it communicate?”

Teacher:  “Um…no.  Ferrets are very quiet.”

Then it’s time to talk about lions.  The teacher brings out a stuffed animal lion.

Mark (horror-struck):  “Is it dead too?”

Teacher:  “No, it was never alive.  It’s just a toy.”

Mark is dubious, especially since the very next thing that happens is that it’s time to see the hedgehog, and the teacher tells the closest little boy, who’s now holding the toy lion, to put it aside because lions try to eat hedgehogs and she (the hedgehog) might be scared if she saw it.  But, unprompted, he puts away the toy snow leopard that he’s been clutching, figuring the hedgehog might not be keen on it either.

The hedgehog, unsurprising, is not thrilled with all the preschool interest and stays curled up tight.

Mark:  “Does SHE communicate?”

Someone’s daddy is smothering laughter.

Teacher:  “Not really.”

If I was like this in school, none of my teachers was paid enough.  At least, as far as I know, none of them retired the year after I was in their class, which actually happened with Paul (first grade).

Teaching Woes

So we’re in the car, driving to Grandma’s house.  Kate, now the educated kindergartner, decides to play teacher to Mark’s benighted student.

Kate:  “Mark, I’m going to teach you the ABCs in French.”

Mark:  “I KNOW my ABCs.”  Indignantly, he begins to sing the alphabet song.

Kate:  “No, no.  That’s English.  Here’s French.  Listen.   Ah, Bey, Say–”

Mark (now incredulous at her stupidity):  “Ayuh.  Bee.  See.”  Then, for good measure, “Dee.  Eeyuh.  Eff.  Gee.”

Kate:  “That’s ENGLISH.”

Mark:  “THAT’S THE ABCS!”

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