Thursday, April 17, 2008

I am my mother

First let me say that I adore my mother so this post is in no way a slight against her, but today I did something that I clearly remember my mother doing: using the full name, in a yell, with scary eyes (I used to really push my mom's buttons).

Picture this:

One boy (why is it always the boys?) who, despite his adorableness, constantly is doing something he shouldn't be doing, lays his entire body on top of a table while he should have been building patterns. It looked like he was imitating Superman with the table as support. Before I could get his name out of my mouth, my Chinese-only-speaker sees him do this, obviously thinks it's fun, and hops up on the table, on all fours. In my head I screamed "WTF!"

Aloud, from across the room, I scream the Chinese-only-speaker's American name (which he still doesn't really respond to). My entire class, including my wonderful IA and wonderful mom who was in volunteering froze. My eyes were blazing. Both table climbers looked at me with fear -- a look that you honestly don't want to have a child look at you with. I lowered my voice and with clenched teeth I told both boys to go change their cards.

Then I pulled the instigator aside and explained to him that his Chinese friend simply copied what he was doing and that he needs to set a good example. I got a blank stare. Then I tried connecting it to his little brother at home. "If you do something bad, does your baby brother do it too?" He responded that yes that happens and it's funny. "But do you think it's funny here?" I know he only shook his head no because that's what I was looking for. I gave up.

Maybe I should have asked why he was laying on top of the table. Hot lava? His feet hurt? He was tired? Patterning is really really boring? He really was being Superman? Coulda, woulda, shoulda...

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