So after lunch today, everybody was walking nicely two-by-two in line discussing the beef patties and how they'd rather have PB&J, and we get back to our room to see that Miss Victoria has changed the Jobs Chart.
A Job Chart, for those uninitiated amongst you, is a hanging thing with pockets (more generally known, imagine our shock, as a pocket chart) and cards with little pictures of cartoon children emptying the trash and feeding the pets (various and sundry well-fed mice who live in the radiators not included). If you are particularly well-behaved and responsible, you get to have a job. EVERYONE wants a job. I can't make up enough jobs to go around. One individual in particular, we'll call her Annabelle, REALLY wants a job. Problem is, Annabelle is like the Holy Roman Empire in the responsibility and behaving area: neither Holy, nor Roman, nor an Empire.
Every day Annabelle yells, "MISS VICTORIA I WANT A JOB PLEASE C'N I HAVE A JOB I REALLY WANT A JOB," as she careens through the room grabbing crayons and coloring on the nearest person. The other day I had to explain to Marcel's parents why his eyebrows looked funny. He and Annabelle had decided to try cutting them with the "safety" scissors (safety scissors - that's a laugh). Annabelle is, to say the least...in the most child-friendly way..., a very tactile learner.
So today she sees that she is, yet again, not on the Job Chart. She yells, "MISS VICTORIA I WANT A JOB PLEASE C'N I HAVE A JOB I REALLY WANT A JOB," and once again I gently explain to her why she can't have a job.She loses it.She throws herself on the floor, sobbing and screaming, "I WOULD WORK SO HARD ON MY JOB PLEASE LET ME HAVE A JOB PLEASE MISS VICTORIA PLEASE."
I say soothingly, "Okay, okay, stop crying...we WILL find you a job."So there I am frantically trying to come up with something she can do without actually being responsible for anything in the classroom or being allowed to roam freely near, well, anything.
Suddenly, I have it. I go to my personal cabinet, open it, and extract my hairbrush.
Teacher: Okay Annabelle, here is your job. You are responsible for making sure Miss Victoria's hair ALWAYS looks PERFECT.
Big round eyes.
Annabelle: I'm gonna DO YOUR HAIR????
Teacher: That's right, for five minutes every day before Ms. G comes to teach Character Education, you make sure Miss Victoria's hair looks good.
Big breath, puffed up chest, squared shoulders.
Annabelle: Okay, Miss Victoria, I'll do it!
Boy, am I gonna look like a diva, or what?