Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Tales of a Smelly Lunchroom

The other day I was waiting in the lunch line at school with a class of first graders when I felt a little hand start to rub my arm. Now for those who don't know (and why in the world would you know this?), I'm very self-conscious about my arm hair. I have quite a bit of it. And it's dark. Sort of like a gorilla. Anyway, this little boy looked up at me, still rubbing my arm, and said, "You are so fuzzy. Just like my dad." Wonderful.

I stopped in the cafeteria during lunch to tell a student that I'd missed him in school the last few days that he had been out sick. "Was it a cold?" I asked, about to tell him that I'd recently had one too.
"It's a secret," he said, beckoning me closer.
Why I leaned forward to listen is beyond me. I never should have asked.
"I had diarrhea. Real bad," he said seriously.

Earlier this month, I was standing in the lunch line with some fifth grade boys, and one became wide-eyed when I reached for a turkey sandwich.
"I thought you were a vegetarian!" he gasped.
"Nope," I replied. "How come you thought so?"
He still looked as if in disbelief. "I just always thought so. You look like you would be."
"How so?"
"Your face shape. Your face is shaped like a vegetarian," he said.
"Hmm, good point. Maybe I'll consider converting," I said as I walked away to devour my poultry.

I was walking though the cafeteria one day and was summoned by an excited first grader. "Guess what?" he said. Before I could guess, he blurted out, "My big sister got her period!"
"Uh, good for her . . .?" I said. Then I added, "How about we keep that private and let her break the news to others?"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hahahaha! I love your stories! Nothing like little kids to tell it how it is!