Statesman V. 29, n. 01.pdf

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Out of the mouths
:
* * *
Ms. B. had put five-year-old Sarah aboard the bus at the stroke of 9
am and watched tearfully as the yellow monster gobbled her up and
whisked her off for the first day of school. Upon arriving home, however,
Mrs. B got a call from school. Sara hadn't arrived in class. Frantic, mom
headed for the school. She and the authorities searched the halls, the
lavatories - everywhere they could think of. Finally, there was Sarah
joyously skipping down the hall, humming a merry tune.
"What happened to you? " asked mom quaking with worry.
"It's alright, Mommy. I just losted myself a little bit," reassured
Sarah, patting Mrs. B's trembling hand.
Mark G. was only in the first grade, but he already knew what he liked
and.disliked - and two of the things he hated most were short hair and
school - in that order. But there he was - at his desk sporting a newly
cropped, very short head of hair. How could things get any worse? They
could and did.
"I see you got a new haircut," smiled the teacher. E
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Mark, being the strong silent type, said nothing, but upon arrival
home, he informed his parents that he had made a decision - one that
would take care of both his dislikes and affect his future. -
"I'm quitting school," said the six-year-old with an air of authority,
vowing to get a job. .
Mrs. D. was teaching letter sounds to her first graders. This particular
day, the sound was that made by the letter combination of "BR."
Trying to think of the perfect word that every child would know, the
teacher asked, "This is someone who walks down an aisle."
No response.
"This is someone who walks down an aisle, and wears white," she
added.
I This time a sea of waving hands appeared before her. She called on
Kevin.
'Bregnant," he proudly blurted out!
*----------------
It was nap time and all the children had
put their heads down on their folded arms
atop the desk. Peering from below his
crooked elbow, Johnny H. looked through
his folded arms back to the floor below his
friend's desk behind him. There, on the
floor, -was a puddle - a product of a
youthful lack of control.
Afraid the teacher would think he had
had the fateful accident, Johnny contemplated
what to do. He had to act fast.
The waters were slowling flowing in his
s direction and would soon be under his
desk. He stood, raised his hand and
cleared his throat.
"'You'd better get back here pretty
quick teacher," he said, with as much
authority as he could muster. "We have a
problem and it's going to rot through the
ties any minute."
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