Reasons I love my job (part II)

1. It wasn't a question so much as a verification of fact:
"You're Michael Jackson's mom?!" (First grade/CE1) There are so many problems with that statement that I can't say that I know where to begin. I might have said yes, just because I was too dumbfounded to form a sentence. When asked why she thought so, she informed me that my hair was the reason (note to self --- NEVER straighten hair, ever again).

2A. We practiced opposites. The kids get skinny/fat mixed up with sneaky, a word I didn't teach them. Thus:
Me: What's the opposite of fat?
Kids, in unison: SNEAKY

2B. Also a result of learning opposites, they confuse fat and happy. Don't ask, I have no idea why. So I'll get a stupid grin going, and ask "What am I?!" To which a chorus of small French voices screams in reply "FAT!" It's beginning to take a toll on my ego, but I still can't stop laughing.

3. Due to the absence of a critical comma, one little girl, in listing things she liked, referred to me as "Sister Molly." I think I died a little.

4. In making their own restaurant menus, some important questions arose: How do you say 'Halal?' How do you say 'game room?' How do you say 'This restaurant accepts checks?' Among others. The food lesson tests the parameters of my French vocabulary sometimes. In eight or so years of French classes, never once had I learned that a pastèque is a watermelon. Fail.

5. One time, when I brought my violin, the kids saw the picture of Hebes (who I count among my honorary grandparents!) in my case and asked if he were my husband. Words fail me here.

6. The constant effort of switching between English and French makes it such that sometimes I catch myself pronouncing French words with an English accent, and English words with a French accident. This could prove problematic in a course which purports itself to be the teaching of ENGLISH.

7. Given my reputation as the ultimate spelling nazi, I find it incredibly difficult to accept the decline of my proficiency in English. The worst is finding yourself in front of 25 small children with a severe memory block. Recently, I had trouble spelling 'twelfth' and 'fuchsia,' which I find insulting. Also, rampant problems with homophones and doubled letters.
"Hold on kids, the Maitresse is having a serious brain fart, please wait while she attempts to retrieve her SANITY."

8. I discovered that screaming at children in English is effective long ago, but what I learned more recently is that screaming nonsense at children is not only effective, but highly amusing. I now scream such quality nonsense that it's all I can do to keep a straight face, for effect. PURPLEELEPHANTMONKEY HOUSEFACETOOLDWARF!


Right and I still dance around in front of my classes and grunt at them in exasperation. Grunts are universal.

Don't judge me.