[What the Crap Wednesday: Wonderful Crap is Happening Edition]

Holy Crap, it's Wednesday! And I'm at work, fixing up my classroom and pre-planning for next semester which starts next Tuesday. Yep, you read that right. I'm AT WORK ON A HOLIDAY. And this isn't the first time, either. Nope. Was all up in here on Monday, too. What the crap? Since when did I become such a dedicated overachiever? Oh, right. Since my birth.

No, really, it's this new girl. (She's not actually new anymore because we got three new guys, so now they're the new guys. Anyway, Saralyn has been here for a while now and she's awesome. She can do math. She can make any kind of form, test, or grid in Word in like 2 seconds and then email it to you as a template. Did I mention she can do math?) Anyway, the new girl is a great teacher. She's taught in so many different countries and she has all these little tricks and rules and guidelines and ideas. And I pretty much just sit next to her, watch her, and then copy everything she does. Pretty much. Anyway, she's making me want to be better. And can I just say What the crap? Because I was all happy being lazy and half-assing my way through everything and forgetting to give tests when I said I would give tests and coming in about 20 minutes before class and then crying about how unprepared I was. I was okay with that. But noooooooooo. Saralyn has to be all "together" and "organized" and right next to me, too. In other words, she's making me look bad. So, I gotta step up the "teacher" game, kids.

On another note entirely, unrelated to teaching English in every way imaginable, Kenny's show opened on Saturday. And there were altogether perhaps between 30-40 people who showed up. It was fabulous. He's had a few offers on some of his pieces, been in two different newspapers, and now we've snagged this TV documentary thing. We met with the writer and producer with a camera this morning at the gallery. Then they kind of followed me around. We're meeting with them again next Saturday. Anyway, all this to say: I'm gonna be on TV, y'all! WHAT. THE. CRAP!

It's not a big deal, actually. And it's kind of funny because the woman keeps instructing us to chat naturally, but she wants Kenny to speak Korean. And finally, I said, "Look. If you want us to chat naturally, that's NOT going to happen in Korean. We speak English." And then she stopped saying that. So, I'm pretty sure none of it is going to be natural. But it's a half hour documentary. It's only showing in Gangwondo, but I'm pretty almost definitely sure I can strong arm a tape or DVD of it out of someone. Obviously so I can make everyone who ever comes over sit down and watch it. And then we'll look at my wedding scrapbook. And then we'll make them look at our traveling pictures and pet our cats. No, I'm kidding. Maybe.

Also, our car comes on Saturday. WOOT. So I'm going to Seoul tomorrow to get my Korean driver's license. I believe What the Crap Wednesday: On The Road editions will become quite frequent. So brace yourself. And book yourself a bus ticket to Wonju if you're in Korea. Because it's really not that far (especially from Seoul. Oh, come on. This country is like 6 hours tall and 5 hours across, y'all. Make the trip.) and Kenny's paintings are well worth it. Hopefully sometime next week I'll have a video tour of the gallery up for all of you outside of the country!

Better get back to work. I've missed you lovelies. Sorry for the silence. It'll probably happen again. You know me...

Why I Love My Job (most days)

Why I Love My Job from danielle buckley on Vimeo.

Please disregard my purple underwear that make an appearance in this video. Because those are my fat jeans. And although I'm getting ChubbO again, the fat jeans still fall down (so I feel like there's hope left. Maybe?)

And yes, all choreography is original. Thank you. I know I'm talented and someone should pay me to make up dances for kindergartners. Actually, the "wooooaahh, wooooaahhhh"  bits are inspired by childhood ski trips in which Holly (The Sisda) used to cabbage patch it down the bunny hill all wrapped up in her snowsuit. So, thank you for your inspiration, Hols.

Plus also, aren't my kids adorable??

Thank You For My Eat

Dear Mom,

Thank you cooking every day!

So thanks.

But sometimes hit my hands or head. I'm so sad.

Please don't hit me.

But I love you mom.

Thank you for my eat!

*We read a story in class about a family making a surprise dinner for mom. After we read the story and discussed some comprehension questions, we made cards for our moms. I asked the kids to tell their moms what they are thankful for and why they love their mom so much. This is what the youngest girl in the class wrote. 

First Report Card: Smyrna West

Kindergarten. I went to a small kindergarten all by itself on a hill. There was a playground to the left of the building and a steep green hill out front that we weren't allowed to go all the way down. There were a few trees and shrubs down close to the road and this was forbidden territory.

I think kindergarten was when I started loving school and boys. Although the order sometimes rearranged itself. I remember our class getting checked for lice, our class lying down every day on our blue and red mats for nap time, and our alphabet circle. During the alphabet circle, we listened to a song about each letter and then Mrs. Easley passed around an inflatable letter character. I loved those guys. They smelled like pool floats and I always held it a little too long and a little too close to my face.

We usually began our days with a coloring sheet. It wasn't a creative coloring sheet. It was a follow-the-directions coloring sheet. The teacher had already colored a sample and taped it to the board for us to copy. I was a serious colorer. But one day, we got a new girl. And she sat at my little group of desks. And she got her coloring sheet and started boldly coloring her horse fuchsia. It was the most beautiful horse I had ever seen, so I picked up a fuchsia crayon and started coloring that bad boy a serious shade of magenta. But then, I had my first crisis of conscience. I remembered we were supposed to color the sheet the same as the example on the board. I turned and looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, that guy was brown up there. No fuchsia horses. And so, I ditched the pinkish crayon, picked up a brown one, and drove it into the paper. I colored so hard, my hand was hurting and crayon wax was crumbled across my paper. It didn't help. Now my horse didn't look fuchsia or brown. It looked like a white horse covered in throw up. It was a mess.

After a while, Mrs. Easley asked us to bring our coloring pages to her. We always turned them in one at a time. I usually skipped to her desk, but that day I was slow poking it up there. My stomach was all knotty. I handed her my paper and she looked at me with angry eyebrows. She told me she was disappointed in me. The new girl made her mistake honestly, but I made mine knowing the rules. And as I turned around in shame to return to my seat, she swatted me. She swatted my behind. It was my one and only "corporeal punishment" of my entire educational career. I was crushed.

This may or may not have been the same day I was swinging on the playground and Daniel Graham dared me to jump off. And because he was a boy and cute and I loved him, I did it. And I did it well. Except that I landed on my feet too hard, fell to my knees in the dirt, and continued falling forward until my face met a perfectly placed grey rock sticking out of the dirt. My precision was amazing. I went home with a black eye. Also, my only black eye of my entire educational career.

Plus also, we made shrinky dinks. Mine was a picture of a rainbow with a tree and some grass and a cloud. I still have that old thing taped in my closet. It was a magnet that lived on our fridge. But then Dad got tired of all the junk on it and he bought a stainless steel front fridge, and magnets do not stick to that guy.

Now, my kindergarten is, according to the website, an alternative school for kids in 6th-12th grade. However, the reputation it has now is as a minimum security school for those kids with behavioral issues. Sounds like fuchsia horses are still not allowed.

*This post was inspired by Writing to Reach You's Ashley, who is currently blogging through her school years. As if I didn't have enough little series to keep up with. Anyway, it's what came out today. Feel free to start your own and make sure you leave me a link so I can get to it!

* In case you're wondering about the word kindergarten, here's some etymology: 1852, from German, literally "children's garden," from Kinder "children" (plural of Kind "child") + Garten "garden"). Coined in 1840 by Friedrich Fröbel (1782-1852) in reference to his method of developing intelligence in young children, the first one in English established in 1850 by Johannes Ronge, a German Catholic priest.

Redeeming Myself, Maybe

So, yesterday I posted probably the worst video possible for those of you outside of Korea because now all you've been exposed to is the current strangeness that is the K-Pop scene. Of course, G-Dragon is still a hot little muffin and maybe you might think so if you saw him in one of his other videos, with his band called Big Bang. Here's one of the songs that I can actually listen to while I watch the video of his perfect teeth. So what if the man wears headbands and ponytails?

But anyway, I wanted to give you a little taste of what we're listening to in our house. My taste is mainly informed by Kenny's preferences, obviously. But I like this music. I've decided to give a short video playlist for your listening pleasure. You can thank me in the comments.

First up, here's Lucid Fall. He is my favorite Korean artist and I love ALL his songs. Every single one. If I had to pick a Korean artist to listen to for the rest of my life and I could only pick one, it'd be this guy.



Okay, and this is simply the happiest song in the history of happy songs. No matter what it makes me smile and dance. I like Kim Jong Kook (김종국) in this video because he's not being all manly and obsessed with working out. So, turn up the volume and do a happy dance!




This is from a band called Rollercoaster (롤러코스터)and this is their song Last Scene. They're kind of old school, but I enjoy it.




For another seriously happy song, here's Humming Urban Stereo with Hawaiian Couple. The video is quite cheesy, and so is the song from what I can gather. But I like it anyway. In the beginning of the video, the guy is saying, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, but please forgive me." And later, the announcement in the train station says something along the lines of, "The love is train is coming. So hug each other." Listen to this song and go hug somebody!


Last of all, this is a freaking awesome song you should go listen to. The embedding has been disabled, but click on this link and go listen. It's incredible. Seriously, start your day with this. Or end it with this. Or split it in two with this. It's by Jeon Ja Yang (전자양). It's perfection.

So, that's kind of what's going on in our house, Korean music wise. Besides all the G-Dragon YouTubing that's going on. Hope you enjoyed this foray into Korean music. I find that even if you can't understand the words, you can always hear the feelings. I can pick out certain phrases and words, but I often just enjoy the sound. My Korean classes begin tomorrow though! The free ones I get through my freaking awesome school. So, maybe I'll be able to sing all of these at the noraebang the next time we go! (Noraebang is karaoke in Korea. It literally means song room. And you go into your own room with your friends and have drinks and snacks and sing your heart out.)

On a P.S. sort of note: I was observed by my principal for the first time today. And basically all I did was the exact same thing I always do. Except, um, I ignored the fact that she was there. I feel like it went pretty well. The kids were great. They didn't freeze up or act any different. Perhaps they participated with a little bit more enthusiasm than usual, but hey, it could only help, right? Still loving my job. Wonder when the new will wear off?

A Few Good Things

I'm smiling.

My head and my heart are full up at the moment. First of all, I love my job. And I don't say that lightly. If you'll remember, I've never loved my job. In fact, most of the time I've loathed even having a job. I always felt that it kept me from having the time to accomplish what was really important to me. It got in the way of my writing, in the way of my thinking, and in the way of my reading and sometimes running. But my job feels good this time around. I feel like I could do something here, become a better teacher, learn a lot.

I had been dreading the beginning of this week because my adult classes started, and I was scared. Because with kids, I can always wing it and they have no clue. They usually don't care what I'm doing to begin with. But adult students. They're for real. So, I was really nervous last night as I stepped into my first class. It went so well. No one ate me. It's a sweet, small class of women. And tonight, my other class, turned out to be so smart and fun. They are eager to learn and it should be fun because they're at a nice level for a discussion class. I'm also excited about starting a Book Club with my 5th and 6th graders. I am so pumped that perhaps I can get some of these kids reading for real, discovering other places, experiencing wild things, living other lives. I'm excited. And overwhelmed.

Oddly enough, I'm enjoying taking the bus. It's not usually crowded as I go to work in the middle of the day. And in the evening it can be busy, but we live so far out that by the time I get home, I've usually stolen a seat and rocked out to whatever is currently playing on my iPod.

I'm reading The Writing Life by Annie Dillard. It is a good book by itself, but on the veranda in the morning with a bowl of Choco Chex, it's even better.

Also, there's a Dunkin' Donuts down the street from work. Do you really think God in all his Goodness would put one anywhere else besides a few minutes walk from me?

On the Other Hand

...there are these lovely children who have not yet become enamored with their own bodily functions. 

What the Crap Wednesday: School Days Edition

Today Jesse simply couldn't help himself. His lanky limbs constantly set to electric shock mode cannot stay still. He stood up behind his desk, turned around and stuck his butt out as far as it would go. He then waved it back and forth hitting each butt cheek with the corresponding hand as it went in that directions. After doing this while yelling something incomprehensible he put the thumb and forefinger of his left hand behind him, made the motion of grabbing a small walnut from his behind, said "Fart" in Korean and then moved the invisible fart held so carefully between thumb and finger in slow motion across his body. As he moved the offensive gaseous mixture out in front of him he made small mechanical noises as if his imaginary fart were being maneuvered by a tiny invisible engine instead of his long, thin arm. Then, he slowly got closer and closer to James' face and finally made contact with James' left eye, making a small exploding sound with his mouth. James doubled over with laughter and Jesse turned back around showing me his butt and smacking it once more while wagging it from side to side.  

Andrew carefully observed this magical classroom moment. He then proceeded to squat in his chair and pretended to poop into his cupped hands held underneath his behind. He then made a motion as if he were shoving this recent production into his mouth. He swallowed loudly. And then, he drew many deep breaths as if he were the Big Bad Wolf. He proceeded to blow this breath over all of his classmates. 

What the crap. No question mark. No incredulity. Just, what the crap. Because I am resigned to it now. I just sat there and watched the whole thing go down, my head in my hands and elbows on the desk. They have reduced me to a shell of a teacher who mostly screams, sighs, and then watches in helpless surrender as they act out their latest gross-fest. Four days left...

What the Crap Wednesday (Christmas Eve Edition)

So, it's Wednesday, the day before Christmas, and I'd just like to say...
What the crap?
Because I'm working today, like the rest of the dutiful Koreans who labor on through the holidays, but unlike all those super-efficient and disciplined Koreans, I have nothing to do. My principal told me yesterday, "So, you know that tomorrow is a play day?"
"A play day? Well, now I know."
"There's no English class."
"No English class? So we don't have to come in?" (We already knew the part-time teacher had the day off).
"No, you have to come here."
"What should I do?"
"You can just do what you want."
"Riiiiiiiiight." I tried to keep the do you realize what an idiot you are? look off my face, but I'm not quite sure how successful that was.
So, I'm here. At school. Have no class. Did some cartwheels in the gym to entertain my kids. Felt the disdain of the Korean teachers and their game planning closing in around me, so I have shoved off to the office to, well, write you a blog.
Let's reiterate: At school. On Christmas Eve. No class. Not wanted.
What. The. Crap.

Also, I've done one of my disappearing acts again, although this time it was not some ploy for staging yet another come back, because they are oh-so-popular here at the O of Chub. Rather, I'm writing outside my blog at the moment, working on a few things, and I'm very happy to be doing so because I thought I was dead, but turns out, I'm not. But seriously, what about last week when I posted everyday? What the crap? I just churned out the love for you, on a daily basis. Thought about you on the train and what I wanted to tell you everyday. Thought about you while sipping my caramel macchiato and munching my donuts (even though I swore I wouldn't have any more until after wedding. What the crap was I thinking?). Wait... what was the point of this paragraph?

Also, did I mention that I'm at school today? The whole day? With nothing to do? No responsibilities whatsoever. Oh? I said that already? Right.

It really doesn't feel like Christmas at all. I kind of found myself unprepared this morning when I woke up. I just sort of disconnected from Christmas this year, despite all my Christmas song listening and all my Grinch- and Elf-watching and hot choco-drinking. I miss the family and because I'm sort of the Watchman of Tradition, making sure Mom doesn't shirk on her Santa duty or kill herself trying to get the lights on the tree the right way or forget to bake those pecans I like so much, I feel like things are slipping away a bit. And I know that Kenny and I need to make our own Christmas traditions, but our first Christmas was spent in Israel, the second across the world from each other, and this one is sort of weird all around. (And can you really top Bethlehem on Christmas Eve? I think not.)
So, in honor of my non-Christmasy feelings and my longing to be at home to sort of safe guard Christmas (or my idea of it) , watch this video. I make a Christmas mix every year, and this song always gets put on there.

It's Christmas Eve and I feel like it's just another anonymous day I must wait through in order to get to the next one. What the crap?

Teacher, Teacher

Kevin: "Teacher."

Danielle Teacher: "See, Andrew, this one is subtraction, minus, so the number gets smaller."

Kevin: "Teacher."

Danielle Teacher: "Yep. Good job, Andrew. That's how you do it. Exactly."

Kevin: "Teacher. Teacher."

Danielle Teacher: "Hold on Kevin, I'm helping Andrew." 

Kevin: " Teacher. Teacher. Teacher. Teacher. Teacher. Teacher. Teacher. Teacher."

Danielle Teacher: "OH MY GOSH, KEVIN! What do you want?

Kevin: "I eat this." (Holding up tiny scrolls of used eraser.)

Danielle Teacher: "What?"

Kevin: "I eat this." 

Danielle Teacher: "You eat that?"

Kevin: "Yes. I. Eat. This." (Slowly and deliberately as if English was not my first language.)

Danielle Teacher: "Eew. You eat that? Gross." 

Kevin: (Big grin).

Yep. This is my life. I was totally proud of his sentence, "I eat this." He's the smartest kid in the class. Too bad he's busy digesting bits of eraser. 

What the Crap Wednesday

So, I'm not one for discipline, as you can tell from the random posting here, despite all my sincere intentions to post 8 days a week. And I'm not promising a new weekly "themed" post. Unless I feel like it. End preamble. Which was one of the answers on Jeopardy today in the category Crossword "P".

I also knew the questions/answers, "What is Carbon-14?" and "Who is Matthew Perry?" Why I knew that Carbon-14 was used to date fossils surprised me, for I am stringently opposed to all things math and chemistry related. Anyway... what the crap?

I started my day rolling out of bed at 8:20, the time I'm usually getting dressed and about to head out the door. I'm seriously sleep-deprived, and for some reason I just couldn't muster any sense of actually caring about my job in order to propel me to my feet at a decent time. I'm not sleeping. What the crap?

One of my 6 year old kids came up to me today while I was sitting on the floor, looked down my shirt, double fisted my breasts, and then turned around to his classmates rubbing his own chest vigorously and shouting something in Korean. What the crap?

Jun, one of my 6 year olds passed me in the hallway, tilted his head to the side, gave me a very cool look and said, "What's out, Danielle Teacher?" It took me a minute to realize that he was trying to say, "What's up?" I've been trying to teach my kids the whole "What's up/ Nothin' much" dialogue. Not so much for educational purposes as for my own personal entertainment. I also taught them the "Back it up/ back it up/ You got it/ You got it" bridge from the Gwen Stefani song Crash off her Love, Angel, Music, Baby album, using it whenever I want them to scoot back or move in that direction. Just for kicks. "What out, Danielle Teacher?" Awwwwwwww.... I mean...What the crap?

While we're on the topic of the short people, there is a boy in the 4 year old class who is now calling me Thank You Teacher. Usually at the end of every class, the Korean teachers make all the kids say, "Thank you Teacher!" And I'm not ever this kid's teacher because I keep my distance from the wee ones, but I do co-teach a special after-school class that he's in. So, instead of calling me Danielle Teacher, he calls me Thank You Teacher. "Thank You Teacher, look!" No matter how many times I tell him my name is Danielle, not Thank You, he insists on calling me that. What the crap? (Even though it's kind of cute. I'm becoming more and more immune to the cute. Call me insensitive if you want to. I call myself a teacher of small monsters. It happens.)

In other educational news, half the air-conditioners aren't working again. Specifically the one in the teacher's office, where I spend most of my day. Despite the fact that it's hot outside and I've already soaked the armpits of my shirt with pancake syrup (see previous post in order to insert inside joke type of snort here) by the time I've reached school, there is no hope for them to dry or for me to cool off when I am forced to spend half my time in The Oven. (Meghan, I'm making a sign tomorrow if it's not fixed and putting it on the door. It will read, Welcome to The Oven. Burn, Baby, Burn.) Also, this whole sweating all day thing totally makes my wearing-that-shirt-about-three-more-times-this-week-before-I-wash-it practice obsolete. Thus, costing me more time and money doing laundry. And I smell like deodorant all day. What the crap, Seoul Summer? What the crap?

Not a Wednesday incident, but still WTCW worthy. I was sitting next to Cuddle Ajumma the other day. Her friend was obviously lacking in her seat-stealing skills because she was standing in front of Cuddle Ajumma. It was almost my stop, so I thought I'd get up a little early and keep someone else from being attacked by this Less-Than-Expert Ajumma. I began to stand up, and before I had stood up all the way, Cuddle Ajumma scoots over INTO my seat, UP UNDERNEATH ME. I was basically sitting in her lap. Everybody say it with me now.... WHAT. THE. CRAP.

Anyone else out there having a What the Crap Wednesday?

All Day Rage

Yep, you read that right. ALL. DAY.
Do you know why, dear readers? No, why Danielle, and where the heck have you been??
Oh, thanks for asking. Well, I was sick and then I was lazy, and then I hiked in the mountains to a waterfall, and then I was lazy some more. Anyway, so rage. My absence here sadly does not signify the absence of my daily rage. (Although, my Seoul Metro-specific rage was reduced incredibly as I read Leslie Marmon Silko's novel Ceremony. I almost missed my transfers and stops the week I read it. It was amazing. I was oblivious to the uninhibited squishing and toe-stomping and elbow-boobing taking place during my morning commute. I'm now copying the book by hand in order to know what it feels like to write the perfect sentence, string a bunch of those together into a perfect paragraph, culminating in the most wonderful and moving novel I've read to date. And people, I've read a lot of good novels.)

No, no, rage is here and rampant. Yeah, you said that before, Chubster, get to the point.
Yes, the point: Air conditioner.
Oh, we have them. However, we're not supposed to be using them. I'm sorry, what? Why? What is the point of an air conditioner that you can't use? Hello? "But it's not good for the kids." That's the largest load of crap I've ever heard in a Korean accent before. I'm sure the kids are sweatin' out the summer months in their penthouse apartments in Gangnam with no air con. Sure. I believe that. And: THE A.C. IN THE OFFICE DOESN'T REALLY WORK. It comes on. The vents open and it makes this comforting whirring that assures you cool air will soon be circulating in our tiny square foot of office space. But no. Lies. All deception and deceit. The cool air never makes an appearance. The humidity rises and rises until I have those greasy strands of hair falling across my forehead that are so oily from my sweat it makes me want to vomit every time I catch one out of the corner of my eye. Also, then I smell like deodorant. Which is better than smelling like B.O. but it's still not pleasant. Especially when you're inhabiting a country where the women refuse to perspire and when the do squirt a few beads, it smells like... nothing. Yeah, medical phenomenon. They. Don't. Smell. Well, sometimes the old people smell like kimchi, but that's more their breath and clothing than their armpits. Anyway, I'm hot. All day.

Keun Ha calls me a baby sometimes. And I'm never offended because he doesn't mean it like I'm immature or can't take a joke. He means it like I'm one of the most simple people walking on this earth. When I'm hungry, I'm grumpy. Feed me, I'm happy. End of story. When I'm hot, I'm grumpy. Air condition me, I'm happy. End of story.

Oh, and the kids. My poor kids. They are sweating like we're in a sauna. Want your kids to learn English while they sweat like boxers steaming in trash bags before the weigh-in? Send 'em on over to Haba. We'll roast 'em for no extra charge. And in fact, we'll throw in a heavily perspiring teacher with large round pit stains and oily hair to get them to understand the difference between pot and pots. ("The s is magic, see! It makes MORE!" Blank stares abound.) We'll get them to stand up and sing that stupid rainbow song (pink is NOT in the rainbow people) to keep their rather large and round heads from hitting the small desks in front of them. We'll say "Yes you may," every time a child summons enough energy to creep out of the dense fog that rises from melting kindergartners to whisper, "CanIhavesomewater, please?" Got a chubbo on your hands, parents? One of those weird medical miracles of a Korean whose body fat registers above 1%? Forget Richard Simmons and those Jazzercise For Toddlers videos! Send them to Haba! Sweating profusely throughout the day is sure to banish that childish pudge forever. (We'll stop before they lose the cheeks though. Until I came to Korea, I never understood people pinching cheeks. Oh. My. Gosh. I am a Korean-kid-cheek-pincher.)

Okay, end facetious ranting. To sum up, a lovely list for your reading enjoyment:

Recent Rage Inducers:
Lack of air con at school ALL DAY.
Oily piece of hair touching my face.
Being hot. Walking by manager's office to see his little personal desk fan keeping him cool.
My penchant for Ice White Mocha, the most calorific drink in the joint.
Not having enough stuff to teach with and fumbling for materials constantly.
When 5 people get in the elevator with me and they all live below floor 9.
Everyone on the Metro the same time as me this afternoon.

Recent Rage Reducers:
The teacher who hunts the A.C. remote and turns it on high for me.
Really tacky hair clips from Kenny's mom that are gold and sparkle, clash with my jogging pants, and keep oily pieces of hair out of my face for most of the day.
Ice White Mocha.
Food.
Food.
Food.
Boyfriend.
Food.
Air conditioning.

Just a Glimpse

I'd like to give you just a glimpse into the nature of the Korean kids I teach. Some of them are lovely and some of them just need to be smacked in the face. For example, last Friday I was wearing a band aid on my thumb because of aforementioned Shopping Incident (see previous post). My thumb wasn't all bloody or anything, but it still wasn't nice to look at because of the bruising and the black crust around my cuticle. And it hurt. So I was protecting it from the environment. Friday is my day to stand at the door and greet the kids (the biggest time-suck the school has come up with yet! I stand around for close to half an hour just to say "Good Morning! How are you today?" Really stupid, but whatever). So, Friday morning comes and Min Jae climbs off the elevator and runs to hug me. Min Jae is 2. He sees my thumb and points and says, "Ouch?" I say, "Yeah. Ouch." Then he proceeds to grab my thumb and squeeze as hard as he can, asking again, "Ouch?" I jerk my hand away from him and say, "Yes! Ouch!" He really hurt me and do you know what the little snot did? Can you guess what he did? Instead of saying, "Sorry teacher" or being sad about hurting me, he just looks up at me and laughs. Yep. He laughs at my pain. Giggles, actually. Is really pleased with himself.

That's all I have to say about that.