"D"...for "Doughnut"

While I know my Tales of a Substitute Teacher have been amusing many of the readers of this blog, I am a bit worried that my posts are becoming predictable. So in the not-too-distant future I have plans to tackle other themes and issues. I presently have a half-completed draft on the film The Proposition that's been simmering on the back burner for almost two weeks now. I also am still developing ideas for a post on how The Gilmore Girls have led me to reflect on the phenomenon of trends within popular culture, as well as a post on how I struggle to "own" my theological career.

But those posts are still under construction, and all I have for you today is a couple of brief reflections on Pre-K.


So if you thought the idea of Debbie Scott's baby boy working with kindergarteners was entertaining, then it will probably thrill you to know that I spent today with an elementary preschool class. As you would expect, there's not too much school work going down in Pre-K. My most difficult responsibilities included moderating a Concentration style matching game, serving as a human easel for a Disney read along book, and distributing goldfish crackers.

The day was quite fun and the presence of a teacher's aid made my job so easy I almost feel guilty for being paid to be there. (Until I remember how last Monday went. Then all that guilt fades more quickly than Parisian courage.) If I was pressed to pick my favorite moment of the day, I would have to cite the brief instant that the education of 4 and 5 year-olds subtley intersected with the work of one of my favorite comedians:

Mitch Hedberg

Every morning in Miss Cinda's Pre-K class, the letter of the day is announced. Today's letter was none other than "D," the beginner of such beloved words as dog, daddy, and dysentary. After introducing the letter of the day, the teacher (or in this case the teacher's aide Miss Nicole) leads the students in composing a short note that features this letter as often as possible.

My moment of choice occured when Ms. Nicole asked young master Coby if he'd eaten anything for breakfast that began with a "D" sound. Coby's answer? "I had a doughnut." "Very good, Coby!" responded Ms. Nicole. "'D' begins the word 'doughnut.'"

Immediately I began to rehearse a familiar bit in my head. Most of you who read this blog will know it. It goes something (but not exactly) like this...

The other day I bought a doughnut. And the cashier tried to give me a receipt for the doughnut. I said, "Man, I don't need a receipt. I give you the money. You give me the doughnut. End of transaction. There is no need to bring ink and paper into this.

I can't imagine a situation where I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. Some skeptical friend would be like, "Hey, man! Did you pay for that doughnut?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit!"

"Hold on. I got the proper documentation right here. Oh wait...it's at home in the file. ...Under 'D.' ...For 'doughnut.'"

I never expected to be reminded of Mitch Hedberg in such an innocent context. But then again, my depraved mind rarely misses an opportunity to spin some dirt into a pristine conversation.

Of course, I did not corrupt the children's minds with this adult comedy. There'll be plenty of time later in their lives for their vocabularies to be sullied. I needn't speed the process along during my cameo in their lives.

There weren't too many other noteworthy moments to share with you all. Recess was interesting. Half the children decided to start calling me "Mr. Stranger," which was, well, strange. And then three of them (2 girls, 1 boy) independently decided to subject me to a double-handed goose during the course of this 30-minute activity time. Needless to say, I gave three short lectures about the importance of keeping one's hands to oneself.

Before I'd left Robey Elementary School today, Ms. Nicole recommended that I be her sub while she was absent this coming Friday. So I will end my work week by mixing it up one more time with this same baker's dozen of preschoolers. Sounds like a top-notch day of work to me.