Wherein the Kidlets Meet a Kid and Discover How Much They Have in Common

Being a rural school marm for nigh on ten years now, I have gotten pretty used to having experiences of an agricultural nature. Just this week I read a poem extolling the virtues of John Deere vs. Case tractors, scored one speech about saddling a horse for barrel riding and another about calve roping, and had a student dress up as a rodeo clown for career day.

The animal husbandry highlight of the week happened early, though, when this little guy got to spend Monday roaming around the school.

It seems that the goat's momma had died in childbirth (goatbirth?), and needed to be bottle-fed every two hours. His owner/our science teacher had arranged for a goat-sitter for the rest of the week, but couldn't find anyone to take the fuzzy little thing on Monday. So he came to school where he was loved and adored by the kidlets.

If you ever want to see some eighth grade boys who think they are tough, grown up, manly punks squeal like six-year-old girls at a princess party, just hand them a two day old goat.  

A few times during the day, parents or other visitors would catch sight of the little critter, prompting them to ask the principal what a goat was doing in the building. Our principal rotated tales, telling some people that we were changing our school mascot and telling others that we were helping the sheriff's office train the newest addition to their drug-sniffing-animals squad.

At the end of the day, as the 8th grade boys were finishing up taking selfies with the goat, I told Mr. Anderson that he should cancel the goat-sitter and just bring the little guy to school for the rest of the year. He nixed that idea, saying it wasn't a good idea to keep an animal like that at school. I replied, "The eighth graders are fuzzy, smelly, messy, and eat all sorts of things they shouldn't, but we let them stay." He laughed and admitted there was some truth to that, but then added that the 8th graders don't poop in the floor.

I can see his point, but I am going to check with the custodians. If it turns out that the kidlets spread just as much manure around as the fuzzy little chocolate chip maker (our principal's technical term for baby goats), I am going to petition to have it come back for the last few days. I think those big, tough 8th grade boys could do with a little more squealing and melting before they head over to the big scary high school for 9th grade.

Itsy Bitsy Biblical Scholars

A few weekends ago, I made a quick visit to the land of my nativity to see my most babiest of brothers, his sweet wife, my Idaho niblets, their sweet mom, and my elderly parents. It was a busy 24 hours full of fun adventures, but the most fun by far had to be our trip to the zoo.

Kenna and Kylie spent their formative years exploring the zoo, so once they got through the gates they were pretty much just blurs as they ran from exhibit to exhibit, checking on all of their old pals. They LOVE the zoo.

 Kristie, on the other hand, was seeing the zoo for the first time. She did a lot of looking around and seemed to do a lot of deep thinking. Since the only other animals she has spent time with have been her siblings, perhaps she was pondering the idea of using cages at home? You can almost hear her thinking, "Hey....that could work!"

And then there was Bubba.

The Mighty Bubbs seemed to have a great time (especially once his good behavior earned him early parole from the back-pack-leash-of-shame), until we got to the lions. Instead of hollering to the animals and trying to get the closest view possible like he had at every other exhibit, Bubba held his tongue and kept his distance.

His mom picked him up so he could get a better view, then she said something to the effect of, "Aren't those lions neat?" But Bubbs vigorously shook his head in disagreement. In the photo below, she is trying to convince him that the lions are "nice", while he is adamantly disagreeing, "They are MEAN!"

I thought it was kind of funny that the lions made Fearless Bubba nervous. Later that day, I wondered aloud if Spider Man or Iron Man had ever faced off against lions in any of the cartoons the little guy likes to watch. Perhaps one of his heroes getting a sound beating from a lion could convince Bubba that they were bad?

It wasn't until I was driving home the next morning when another thought struck me upside the head. I remembered that Bubba wasn't Bubba's ACTUAL name! His real name is DANIEL, which put me onto a whole other train of thought. I started to wonder if, perhaps, the story of Daniel in the Lion's den had been mentioned in nursery recently?

Or, more likely perhaps, had his older sisters learned the story in primary and then retold it to their little brother... maybe late at night in their darkened room. Might they have"forgotten" to specify that it was a particular Daniel who got tossed into the lions' den, or"accidentally"  implied that ALL Daniels are favorite chew toys of that particular breed of cat? That might explain his reaction at the zoo.

And there is precedent in our family for older siblings getting a little confused when it comes to younger siblings with biblical names.

Case in point: When I went to help out at Jenny and John's for a week after Jonah was born, little Bentley can home from Sunbeams and informed me that we need to go outside and "Kill the Whaley Fish." Being the intelligent and articulate woman that I am, I responded, "Huh?"

Bentley then went on to explain that in primary he had learned that the Whaley Fish wanted to eat his new baby. So, because Bentley is a good big brother and I am an easily amused aunt, we grabbed some weapons and headed outside where we kept watch for that sneaky, baby-eating Whaley Fish. 

We might never know if Daniel was adverse to the lions because he was worried he might end up in the same hairy situation as his biblical namesake, or if he was just remembering that Spider Man had  gotten his behind kicked by a cartoon lion at some point. But either way, it made for a pretty funny conversation to watch at the lion exhibit. 

And at least he doesn't have a problem with stone lions. 

Which one is really the King of Beasts?

For My Nephews

The English kidlets have spent the past week weeks studying Greek mythology... one of their favorite topics. We spent a few class periods putting Theseus on trial for one count of regicide in the death of the Minotaur (a 1/2 prince of Crete),  spousal abandonment (he "accidentally" left his wife of 14 hours on a nearly deserted island), and involuntarily patricide in this death of his father, King Aegeus of Athens (who threw himself to his death off of a rocky cliff because Theseus had another forgetful moment.) We also held an appeals trial for Prometheus who felt that his punishment (being chained to a mountain for eternity and having a giant vulture rip out his liver every single day) was cruel and unusual and didn't fit his crimes (disobeying Zeus, theft of fire, and reckless endangerment of the lives of humans). 

The myth trials (formulating and supporting arguments... and some brilliant acting) is pretty intensive, so for the last day or so we finished out our mythology unit by creating our own constellations and writing myths to explain them. The kidlets have done such a great job, I couldn't resist sharing some of them with my mythology-interested nephews. I wish I could post ALL of the kid's myths... but I don't know that the niblets could make it though 85 of them. So here are some that I thought Bentley, Max and Joe might enjoy.

 One day, an old man named Victor Mills was inventing Pampers: a kind of soft, comfortable diaper that a baby could wear. Eros, the god of love, (also known as Cupid) wears a cloth that is itchy and uncomfortable. So he came to Victor and said, “Could you make me a diaper that would be fit for a God?” So Victor invented Pull Ups. Eros thanked him and put his wonderful invention in the sky as a constellation. (C.H.)

The [Cowtown] Bobcats softball team was the finest softball team in the land. They played over 50 tournaments every year. One day, Zeus decided to come down from Mount Olympus to watch the Bobcats play in their very last tournament of the year. Zeus got the best seat, which was directly behind home plate. He loved how quick and aggressive they were while they were playing. When the Bobcats bit the softball, it reminded Zeus of the sound his lightning bolts made when he hurled them at humans. Zeus thought that softball was a pretty great sport, so he decided that he would put a glistening constellation of a softball in the sky to honor it. (A.L.)

 When the great Zeus created the first penguin, he was so pleased with himself that he decided to keep it with him at Mount Olympus. Hera, however, was not pleased with Zeus’s creation. You see, Zeus paid absolutely no attention to his wife after getting his penguin. Hera did everything she could to get rid of that annoying creature. She took away the penguins’ power of flight, and even banished the penguin’s family to the coldest part of the world. But however hard she tried, the penguin wasn't phased by any of the misfortunes she cast on him. Finally, Zeus realized what was happening to his little friend and he stopped Hera from doing any more harm. To remind his wife of her great failure, Zeus put a picture of his amazing penguin in the highest sky. (K.W.)

One rainy day, Poseidon and Zeus were making ran and lighting when Poseidon heard a wave…but in a weird place: an Athenian home. Poseidon went down to investigate. He disguised himself as a plumber and said that Athenian’s water system was “unique”, so they gladly let him in. He went into the bathroom to see the thing that was making the wave sound, but he didn’t know what the thing was. Poseidon asked, confused, “What is this remarkable work of porcelain that is fit for even the mighty lord Poseidon?” The Athenian answered, “We call it the potty, the porcelain throne, or , as it is more widely known, the toilet. Poseidon was mesmerized by how this mechanism could summon and cast off water with the flick of a wrist. Poseidon had to thank these people for what they made. He finally tool off his disguise, stole their toilet, and put it in the sky next to Aquarius. (C.F.)

Don't Worry, I'm Not Going to Quit My Day Job

About two weeks ago, the DJ who had been booked for the junior high's Spring dance called to say she wouldn't be able to come. The Spring dance is the much-anticipated last dance of the year, and it had already been postponed once, so the student council advisers decided to take drastic action.

The decided to ask me to be the DJ.

And I said yes.

When I said yes, I have to admit that I was picturing myself kind of like this...

...or maybe a little more like this...

But the more I thought about it, I realized that the kidlets would probably see me more like this...

And then I started to panic a little.

I mean, I think I am pretty cool.

And the kids seem to think I am pretty cool ... for a teacher. 

But being a pretty cool teacher is not in the same zip code as being a pretty cool DJ.

Then I realized that I have spent the last ten years scoring coolness points with the kidlets, but one afternoon as a lame DJ at the last dance of the year could totally bankrupt me in the coolness department. It would take years to recover my reputation. 

So then I started to panic a little more. 

That second wave of panic led to this box being taped to the wall in the lunchroom for a week.

I thought that if the kidlets requested songs for the dance and I played the songs they requested, I could bask in their reflected coolness...

 ... and if they decided the music was lame, I could totally blame it on them. 

Then, in an attempt to give them something to focus on besides the music, I put together a video using photos and video clips the yearbook kids gathered over the year.

And then I worried some more.

But I am pleased to announce that the dance was yesterday and I seem to have survived with my reputation intact. I am still pretty cool... for a teacher.

The student council and art classes put together some awesome decorations.

And plenty of kidlets showed up.

Some of them even danced!

 I ended up having a pretty good time choosing tunes, taking requests, and using the microphone to encourage the kids to show off their sweet moves. 

I also managed to get almost all of my 2B creative writing classes final poetry projects graded.

I'd like to see a professional DJ manage that in a dark room with super loud music while counseling lovelorn 8th graders.