Thursday, December 13, 2007
From the Mixed-Up Files of Morah Madd Hatter
Child 1: Here. I made you some chicken soup.
Me: Siiip. Mmmmm, yummy. Thank you so much.
Child 1: Here. I made chicken nuggets.
Me: Hmmm. This looks suspiciously similar to the chicken soup I just had...
Child 1: Here. *shoves pot forward into my face*
Me: *chewing noise* Mmmm. That's delicious. Thank you so much.
Child 2: WHO'S SICK? WHO'S SICK? WHO'S SICK? WHO'S SICK? WHO'S SI-
Me: I'm not feeling so well. Are you the doctor?
Child 2: Yes. I have to make you feel better. *smashes elephant head somewhere near the region of my heart, but closer to stomache* K. You're all better. *Walks off, looking for next victim, um, patient*
Child 3: I have a clementine for lunch. My mommy gave me a clementine.
Child 4: Nu-uh.
Child 3: Yeah, she did.
CHild 4: Nu-uh. Nu-uh. It's...*breaks out into slightly off tune rendition of My Darling Clementine*
Child 5: I'm frisky.
Me: You're what!?
Child 5: I'm frisky.
Me: Um, what does that mean? To you anyway.
Child 5: *pats throat* I'm frisky.
Me: Thirsty? You want a drink?
Child 5: Yes, I'm frisky.
Me: Hold on, I'll give you some water.
Child 6: Look what I made!
Me: Wow, that's beautiful. What is it?
Child 6: *looks at it in puzzlement*
Me: Is it an airplane? What a great airplane! Good job!
Child 6: *smiles shyly with satisfaction*
Child 7: *leaning on my knee* What are you doing?
Me: I'm contemplating a particularly difficult philosophical problem.
Child 7: *still leaning* what are you doing?
Me: I'm cutting.
Me: For the project.
Child 7: Oh. *giggles*
I spent the last two days taking over as Morah for my mom's playgroup. The grey stiped folding chair became my thrown, the sheet of smiley face stickers my sceptre. The above is an accurate transcription of most of the dialogue which occurred between me and my cuties during a portion of their free play. Those of you who have had experience as lord and master over a group of three yr. olds will know exactly what I'm talking about. The rest of you...