RECESS

.
.
. I instructed two students to raise the flag in front of the school. They raced to the pole while I watched from the play yard. After they had it hanging successfully over the building, they raced back to me--their faces plastered with large, goofy grins. They were so proud! The kids excitedly turned back to admire their handiwork.
.
.
After several seconds, however, one of the student's shoulders suddenly drooped dramatically, his excited smile turning upside down in horrible disappointment. Surprised by his change in mood, I looked at him expectantly. Eyes still on the flag, he pouted:
.
.
"The wind needs to be blowing! It would look so much better!"
.
.
I did my best not to laugh at his affliction, as I gazed back up at the flag, that was indeed hanging as limp as a wet noodle.
.
.
Just then, I heard one of my little freckle-covered guys, exclaim: "Mrs. Ashmore, They've got me!" I surveyed the group of 4th grade girls, grasping his jacket firmly, and all grinning at me mischievously.
.
.
"So girls, what are you going to do with him now that you've caught him?"
.
.
They simply giggled in unison, as they began to drag him in the opposite direction. "We're going to suck his blood," the smallest one stated matter-of-factly, her pigtails bouncing as she walked (oh dear. that one's mother must be a Twilight fan).
.
.
"Well, be sure to have him back in time for class. "
.
.
*Another chorus of giggles*
.
.
"Mrs. Ashmore, Noooooo! "
.
.
This was all I heard, as they disappeared across the field. I sighed and let them go. For some reason, I just had the feeling that my little guy would be more disappointed if I did put a stop to the torture.
.
.
Never a dull moment.
,
,
,