Friday, October 8, 2010

A Wet Start



The Shakespeare Club T-shirts were on. A mom had brought water, apples and Twizzlers for a snack. Everyone took a few munches and then we stood in a circle to begin our warm-up.

"Hmmmmm," I started. "Bumblebee in the mouth, let it buzz all around in the nooks and crannies. Chase it with your tongue and hmmmmm."

They joined in buzzing and I noticed a few trying to signal me as they hummed. Heads tipping to the right. What? Hmmmmm. What?

I looked down, and to my left eight-year-old Krystal was doing her best to hum and catch that bumblebee, but her eyes and nose were dripping. I put my hand on her head, she looked up and the flood increased.

"Okay, Krystal," I whispered. "It's okay, we'll fix the problem in a second, just hang on. Hmmmmm."

We were about to attempt four performances of "Macbeth" in one day and right off the bat I had a weeping Murderer One/Witch. How did this happen so fast? What had I already missed?

Krystal's best friend, Wendy, frantically tried to get my attention.

"Her pants, Ms. Ryane...Krystal's pants!"

Oh boy. Krystal had apparently spilled her water bottle and her little blue jeans were soaked right at the spots where it looked like she had an even more humiliating accident.

"Mee mee mee mee...mah mah mah mah...." I caught Rachel's eye and raised my eyebrows, which meant Please take over while I figure this out.

In the school office, where geniuses reign, there is a box of random pieces of clothing for accidents such as these, but Krystal and her mom had chosen special blue jeans for "Macbeth." They were decorated with shiny beads. I knew that Krystal's tears were a combination of embarrassment and the thought of those pants being ruined for the day.

Sitting in the auditorium to help in any way she could was Lizzie's Aunt Sarah, a senior from the local high school.

"Sarah," I called her over. "Could you take Krystal to the office and find her a pair of temporary pants? And then do you think you could take these over to your grandma's house and stick them in the dryer?"

Done. On all counts. Done. Tears dried. Pants dried.

Hmmmmm. Everybody, hmmmmm.


CHILDREN'S WRITES: A Journal Entry
My job is to take care of my friend. If my friend is nuty I would help her come down. If my friend is hurt I would help her.
Page, 3rd grade

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