Christmas Spirit

White Christmas, 1995 re-release CD album cover
Image via Wikipedia

This little number was originally posted on Facebook on November 30th, 2006.  There is a snow day post coming, as promised.  I hate to keep you waiting because I know all your hopes and dreams are pinned upon this blog. I’m just trying to teach people patience.  It is a virtue, after all, and I always like to do what I can to keep mankind virtuous.  Anyway, a snow day (week) post is on its way, but I pulled this guy out of the archives because I listened to Christmas music in my classroom today with some of my kiddos.  We had a good-bye party for a couple of brothers who are moving to a new school and the kids requested it.  We ate off leftover Halloween plates and listened to White Christmas. That’s how I roll.  Anyway, here’s a little snippet from a kindergarten group I had back in the day:

Ok, so technically it is still November and really I’d like to think that Christmas is still a ways away. I’ve got lots to do and no presents for anyone yet (unless you count the pub coasters and retro-nintendo controller-shaped mint tin I got for my brother) so I’ve sort of been putting Christmas off in my mind. It even takes me off guard when Christmas songs come on the radio. However, if you’re 5 years old Christmas cannot come soon enough. One of my most adorable kindergarteners ever was singing Christmas carols today while she was practicing writing her upper and lower-case A’s. She’s super cute. Her hair is always styled and she has little long fingernails with pink nail polish chipping off. Before I started the kids on hugs and marshmallows while walking in the hallway (hug yourself to keep your hands to yourself and inflate your cheeks like they’re full of marshmallows so you can’t talk, thanks Julie Jeppesen), she used to walk with her hands flipped out at the sides and strut around like she was a pretty princess. It sounds annoying, but it isn’t. Today she was singing that song “Wonderful Christmastime” by Paul McCartney that goes “Sim-ply haaaaaaving a won-der-ful Christmastime,” and she was singing that line over and over and over. Except that instead of singing the actual words, she sang unintelligible gibberish. It sounded like this, “Bimbly bodderba a brobrabber brismuss tom.” The beginning changed slightly with each time she sang it, but it was always “brismuss tom” over and over.

It took several times through for me to figure out what it was. I was like, “I know that song…” I sort of spaced out in the middle of class for a second until Paul McCartney’s voice overrode hers in my head. I was just thinking how cute it was that she was singing Paul McCartney, even though it was gibberish, and how little and silly and cute kindergarteners are in general, when my one little nose-picker was at it again. Earlier either this week or last week, he’d picked his nose and ate it so much it bled. Then today he said, “Teacher, look!” and stuck his finger in his nose and pulled out a booger. Again, he said, “Look, Teacher!” and he held it up for me to see. I said, “That’s gross. Keep your finger out of there.” He looked at me, smiled, and put it in his mouth. I yelled, “Sick! Spit it out!” and pointed at the garbage can. He laughed and laughed and then spit it out in the garbage. It was the grossest thing I’ve seen all year, even grosser than when the first grader took his shoes off in the middle of reading and licked his feet. His little booger flying out of his mouth and into the trash totally sent packing any bit of Christmas spirit I had today.

Fruity, with fleas.

One of my kids ate their own hair today.

We were working on writing and he had an awesome story going about a murderous Barbie taking over a summer camp.  I looked up at him at one point and he’d plucked a hair out of his head and was squinting at it.  He said, “This is so I can make my twin.” 

Excuse me?  Were we discussing cloning and I missed it?  He said, “No really, I can.”  And then he popped it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  How do you even reprimand that?

I said, “Did you seriously just eat your own hair?”  To me, hair in my mouth is one of the most uncomfortable and disgusting feelings I can imagine.  He was totally cool with it, though, like he’d just filled us all in on his favorite afterschool snack. 

But what about all the dirt and environmental stuff that might be on your hair?  “No, it’s fine,” he said, “I just took a bath.”  When? When did you just take a bath? “Um….hhmm…this morning?”  If you had to think about it, it’s been too long.

What if there’s lice? “Oh, no, then that’s perfect!  Lice are bad!  I’ll eat the bad lice!”  Oh, no, dude…don’t eat lice.  You’re a primate and all, but that’s not really how we roll up here at the top of the food chain. 

I decided to let it go for the time being so that everyone could settle back down and get to work.  After a few minutes, though, a kid said to me, “Hey, why are you still looking at him like that?”  I said that I just couldn’t believe he’d actually eaten his own hair.

“What?” he said, “It’s fruity and stuff!”  Then, “And it has fleas…” 

Oh, Lord, help me.  Last year I had to have a conversation with this kid about how his tropical fruit flavored chapstick was not a snack.  I think we’ve escalated.  Blech.