Close Encounters of the Dude Kind

I know I like to give you all the impression that I lay around in bed all day. Or when I'm not in bed "resting" I'm on the computer playing Plants vs. Zombies or Bejeweled Blitz all day long.

But contrary to this very popular and wide held belief, I have been known on occasion to do "Momly" stuff.

Why just the other day, I actually volunteered at my six-year-old's classroom. I do this on a regular basis.

That is when I'm not having another brain fart and the teacher has to lovingly call me at home to remind me that I'm already fifteen minutes late.

Ahem.

I don't mind checking their homework, stamping papers, stapling papers, collating papers and that kind of tedious stuff.

I do tedious well.

What I dread about the Mother-Helper volunteer program is The Groups.

The teacher will have "stations" in the classroom and each row of students will rotate to each station.

"All-right, children, the first row will go over with Mrs. Quirky, the Mother-Helper over there." (She then points to my assigned spot in hell. Oops! Did I just curse on my blog? Nah! It's the truth. That spot is hell.)

That fateful day, I trudged over to "my" spot and the teacher quickly showed me what to do.

My station group exercise was to introduce them to the concept of measuring things. They had a worksheet with different sized worms on it all laid out neatly in rows. They were to take some plastic blocks and line them up beneath the picture and figure out how many blocks long the worm was. Then they had to write the number to the right side of the sheet.

Pretty simple, eh?

Hardly!

Not with five and six-year-olds.

I began by asking them all to look at me, so I could show them what to do.

And of course NOT, they looked at everything but me.

I explained to them what they needed to do.

Kids speaking all at once and me shooshing in between it all.

"Teacher, what am I supposed to do? (Shh, listen, I'm trying to show you.) But I want the green blocks! (No, remember you get what you get and you don't get upset.) How do I do this? (Sh, sh, sh!) Look at the worms! I like worms. (Boys and girls, please listen, this is what you need to do.) I found this one in my yard. (Sh, let's focus on the work.) Teacher, how do I do this? (Okay, look again at the worms and the blocks.) Lisa (not the child's real name) changed her blocks! And I wanted the brown ones. (Lisa, please do not switch your blocks. Now everybody watch how I do this. Line up the blocks below the picture and then count them all up.) Teacher, what do I do now? I'm finished. (There's more on the back.) Oh, there's a backside! Teacher, how do I do this? (You take the block and....) Teacher, I'm done. (Good for you, don't forget to write your name at the top.) Teacher, Lisa is done and I still don't know what to do. (Okay, watch me and I'll show you.) Teacher, I don't understand! Can I color this? Teacher, how do I write an 'L'"

Then every six or eight minutes we rotate and I get to do it all again!

Wheeeeeeee!

When the third group arrived, my eye-twitch was in full-gear. I went through the same rigmarole with this group that I had with the previous two groups and I could look forward to one more group.

But during this third group something quirky happened. (Ha! Of course!)

I let my professional Mother-Helper persona slip.

I called a little boy, "Dude."

I said, "No Dude, let me show you."

He looked at me and promptly said, "I'm not your Dude."

What the dude?

He had a problem with me calling him, "Dude?"

What kid has ever had a problem with being called, "Dude?"

Perhaps an extra-terrestrial kid?

Doesn't he know it's a label of coolness?

Dude.

Or if you're female.

Dudette.

It's cool! It rocks!

Anyhoo, it was time.

Time for me and my eye-twitch to leave.

But I had to survive "groups" for one more joyful round.

Then, it really was time to leave.

Thank heavens.

Yes, I'll leave all those dudes and dudettes under watchful care of one (Saint) Kindergarten teacher.

Until the next volunteer encounter.

I can't wait.




B.S. No dudes or dudettes were harmed in the production of this post. Unfortunately, Quirky's eye-twitch has still not gone away. And while many Diet Dr Peppers were consumed during the production of this post, nobody understands how the hole in the wall appeared. Quirky has no comment.