“Oh what a difference a day makes,” I can just hear my grandmother singing in my head. And ’tis true. Yesterday I felt like I didn’t know up from down, and by this afternoon things seem to have righted again.
Different problems with different kids today, but I still couldn’t by without using the “mean” voice to break up a shoving match.
I have one kid that’s a missionary. Today he informed me that he had once been scratched by a squirrel while he was at school, visiting the Jerusalem House which was about “You know, the guy who lived there…God…” This house was something his school set up which was where he learned about “You know, the guy who lives in heaven…you know, the guy who died on the cross and then went up to heaven?”. He was waiting for confirmation that I knew about the guy from Jerusalem, that I knew about the guy who, you know, died on the cross and then went up to heaven. I asked him where he went to school, and my suspicions were correct – he was from Immaculata, where they indoctrinate the children in a cult type of manner. No room for questions, no room for dissent – not even from non-catholic children. A fact which sets up a wierd atmosphere for the kids who don’t believe in Catholicism, even though they might be Christian. I was fine there, until I mentioned to one of the kids that I was non-denominational, or Protestant for all intents and purposes. This freaked a few of them out (although I think they were faking) and a sect became convinced, for about half an hour, that it meant I worshipped both God and Satan at the same time. Anyway, he knew some of the same people I knew, so we talked about that. This was the kid, by the way, that started the shoving match…Later, I asked him if that was what the guy from Jerusalem would do…he didn’t seem to care.
I have another kid that’s a bleeder. She cut her finger with a pair of kiddie scissors (really, you gots to wonder how they do that!) and I watched blood pour from her finger. It wasn’t too deep cut, but, there was blood everywhere. I had to use two gloves (on my left hand) because they kept getting covered with blood. Not to mention countless numbers of cotton balls to clean her up. And she didn’t cry or anything, she sat very calmly throughout the whole ordeal. Had I lost that much blood, I think I would have passed out.
Brian still talks alot, and still likes gummyworms (he kept begging for more).
The boob-kid’s brother is in my class, so the boob-kid likes to hang out in my room. He ran to me for a hug, and I gave him one from the side, where I threw my arm around his shoulder. Seemed to be working, but today I turned around to help a kid with their gummyworm habitats (oreo-cookie dirt and chocolate pudding mud of course) and I felt a smack on my butt. It was boob-kid, of course. I like boob-kid, but I’m not sure what it is with him and touching people, specifically me. Perhaps he touches me just as much on my hands or arms, but I just don’t notice until he hits a spot most kids aren’t tugging on all the time.
In other news, the shuttle is going to be launched tomorrow at 3:51pm, and perhaps it’s just the fact that I’ve been working at the Nerd Museum for so long, or perhaps it’s the fact that I’m going to be taking astronomy next semester and I’m incredibly excited about it…or perhaps everyone thinks this is cool too, but I’m really excited! I guess they are willing to risk it, even though they didn’t quite meet all the saftey standards they set for themselves.