Memoir

My best friend Meaghan is a music teacher. She deals mainly with young kids, and you bet they say the darnedest things:

Me: you have a lunch detention. That’s disgusting and disrespectful.

Another student: and painful!

2^nd:
miss, do you eat burritos?

5^th: miss, what’s wrong with your hair?

(looking at a photograph) Miss, you got black friends?

Me: they’re from south Africa

Student: Jamaica?

Kinder: I went on vacation…to Waterbury!

Me: don’t lie down on the floor. I don’t lie down when I teach you.

5^th. You can, miss, we don’t mind.

6^th, in reference to graduation gowns: miss, do we have to pay for our togas?

1^st: miss, do you speak new jersey?

Me: can you tell me a country that is in the middle east?

Student: Hartford?

1^st: Miss, did you know one of my brothers died?

Me: he did?!?

Student: yeah.

Me: what happened?

Student: my mom killed him because he was so bad.

1^st: miss, somebody threw a fart.

One 1^st grader to another: never date a girl with tattoos.

Kinder, after I had scrawled something on the blackboard: miss, you writin’ in cursaliss?

Me: what do we do to celebrate the new year?

2^nd: take a shower? And ice skate?

During Black History Month, 1^st graders wrote a list of what their dreams were.

My dream is to turn into a butterfly.

Miss, you cut your hair?

Me: yup. What do you think I did with it?

Student 1: threw it away!

Student 2: sold it!

Me: sold it for what?

Student 2: for money! To buy a cat!

1^st: miss, I’m pretending I’m from japan.

1^st: miss, I want to be a teacher right now.

5^th, holding up a crayon: this is a shitty brown.