Glutton-Free Mudpies!

This is what makes teaching Class 4 so much fun! My girls have been making "cake balls" every day at playtime for the last week and "baking" them in the sun. They've ground rocks into powder for the sprinkles and gathered green leaves to serve as "fairy plates." In the words of Anne Shirley, "There's so much scope for the imagination" in mud and rocks. I love the simplicity of how they play. This was my invitation to their party:

Dear Teacher,

Please come to our party! It's going to have glutton-free (I think she meant "gluten-free") mudpies! RSVP to myname@class4C.com which I made up. If you would like to come, please meet at the lunch tables! Hope to see you there!

Zebu!

Our math lesson yesterday mentioned a "zebu." What in the world is a zebu? So we looked it up: "A domesticated ox with a dewlap." Dewlap? Another student looks that word up: "A loose flap skin that hangs around the neck of some animals, similar to the wattle of a bird." Wattle? We were on a chase. I pulled up a picture of a zebu with a dewlap and projected it on the screen when one of my students exclaims, "OH! My grandma has one of them!" That brought it home for him. Oh where math lessons take us...

Later, I was looking back through my Ethiopia album and saw something in the background of one of the pictures. So I zoomed in: cow-like, prominent hump, native to Eastern Africa. I walked right by a zebu and didn't even know it!

 

 

Snake!

Oh my goodness. One of my boys thought he'd show me an exciting find of his. After helping a student with her morning analogy, I return to my desk and find sitting there in a clear container a dead snake! Not an apple, or an orange, or a flower, or a drawing like I normally find. A snake...DEAD! I let out a shriek, jumped two steps back, and the culprit ran up to me: "I found him in my backyard. I was going to shoot him with my airsoft gun, but he choked and died." Choked? Anyway, he starts to take it out of the container to show the class, dangling this dead snake between his fingers. He was so sincere. I quickly put the lid on him, smiled graciously, and very calmly told him to put it in his backpack and keep it home. "Yes, ma'am, but can I at least keep him on my desk for the morning?" The obvious answer is no. At lunchtime: "Mrs. McKanna, can I look at my snake while we eat?" At playtime: "Mrs. McKanna, since we're outside, can I bring my snake out with me?" He does realize it's dead, right?! All. Boy. Aye yai yai.