I admit I was real excited when I found out I was going to be a primary teacher. Excited but nervous. I have never had a calling other than in Young Women, so this was a big deal. I was to teach the Valiant 8 class, which is a small group of nine year olds. I went in my first day, anxious to see how the class would be. A little rowdy, but not terrible. One girl took a particular liking to me, and asked me every question under the moon.
Where'd you get your top?
Where'd you get your skirt?
Where'd you get that necklace?
How about those shoes?
Do you know how to draw blood? (Even I was shocked by this one. It's not often I get people asking me that question, and I highly doubt that when they ask me that question they don't expect me to be a certified phlebotomist.)
I'm going to have to get used to the short attention spans these kids have.
I also may have looked over the fact that nothing get's passed nine year olds. Said girl above, rubbed my leg on sunday and told me I need to shave. I wasn't even that harry either! Dang it.
Here's to shaving every.single.day.
Where'd you get your top?
Where'd you get your skirt?
Where'd you get that necklace?
How about those shoes?
Do you know how to draw blood? (Even I was shocked by this one. It's not often I get people asking me that question, and I highly doubt that when they ask me that question they don't expect me to be a certified phlebotomist.)
I'm going to have to get used to the short attention spans these kids have.
I also may have looked over the fact that nothing get's passed nine year olds. Said girl above, rubbed my leg on sunday and told me I need to shave. I wasn't even that harry either! Dang it.
Here's to shaving every.single.day.
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