Kids Say the Damnedest Things

Yesterday I had the best day. I accompanied my five-year-old and her grade on a field trip to the American School’s very large park in north London where the kids watered, raked, weeded and played until they were dirtier than dirt. I was the official class chaperone.

The weather held and was terrific. A cool breeze at first and some light haze but that burned off, giving way to a peach of a sunshine and a nice, dry, warm day.

On days like that (when I have something in the morning, or in this case, all day, at the school), I hop on the morning bus with my younger daughter. There’s space, so why not? My daughter was so excited that I was coming she was positively quivering with energy. And couldn’t suppress a smile to end all smiles. Those are some of the best things. That delight and excitement in a young child, especially when it is due to your very presence.

Being outdoors with the pre-K (called K1 at ASL) and their teachers was one of the highlights of my year. I loved observing and getting to know some of the other children in my daughter’s class and the other K1 class and it was wonderful to spend some QT (quality time, come on) with the teachers as well, particularly since the end of the school year is upon us and soon they will be teaching new little persons.

But one of the best parts was experiencing the funny things kids say. They are just so honest and there isn’t a lot of psycho-drama. Around noon I found myself eating lunch in a small group of girls. One girl looked at me (I had on a leopard print scarf — of course I did) and remarked “why are you bald?” I thought it was interesting that she assumed I was bald under the scarf. How did she know there wasn’t hair under there?  I thought about my response. Being careful, because this wasn’t my kid. “Well, I had to take medicine that made my hair fall out,” I responded. “Why would you want to do that?” The kid asked. “Exactly,” I thought.

So excellent. And a very good point.

After the gardening, snacks, lunch, nature walks and play ground time were all over, and after the bus ride back to school, during which my kid almost dozed off, so exhausted was she from the rigours of the day, we re-entered the classroom. I hung out and observed the kids do their thing, including practicing for a big concert that’s happening tomorrow morning. Guess I’ll be back on that school bus real soon…

The teachers put on some special music at the very end of the day and the kids started to dance. I got into it with the class and the teachers and shook my thang. I love to dance and i am not afraid of making an ass of myself in front of little (or big) people. So I did the twist and boogied and shimmied away with them. The kids found this hilarious and were laughing and dancing with me.

That’s when Charlotte announced cheerfully: “my mom can’t shake her boobs anymore.” Oh yeah? Just wait Char, they’ll be bouncing again one day. Not much, but a little. Let me just finish killing it and then we can get to the fun bouncy part of this adventure.

Kids say the damnedest things. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

6 thoughts on “Kids Say the Damnedest Things

  1. Kids are amazing as they speak their minds. Getting directly involved with Char’s field trip and living life to its fullest during your incredible recovery and treatments says something HUGE and hopefully will leave a lasting impression on these youngsters. They are the luckiest little people to dance with you 🙂

  2. My dearest niece…. You were no slouch in the “darnedest ” department– or the bravery department, either! I hadn’t thought of this in a gazillion years but your post reawakened a dear early memory: once when you were staying with me, at about age 5, I left you at a sitter ‘s while I went to an audition. On the way there, you had serious misgivings (although you had a blast once there). You were trying not to cry– fairly successfully, except your lower lip was betraying you by quivering mightily. Finally you just had to say something. It was “Lissy? My mouth is trying to make me cry!” That reduced me to such a

Leave a Reply