This entire month my student teacher is teaching full time. I'm technically not supposed to be in the room. I am here and there. . .but then I start helping, chiming in. . .I really shouldn't be in there.
So, I've been keeping myself busy. I'm doing an inference intervention with certain students in all three 2nd grade classrooms. I have almost all of my reading benchmarks done almost a month early. I bet I'll never type that again!! I've also came up with a way to help other teacher. This morning I thought it would be fun to go into different rooms to read to give the teacher a break. 20 minutes here or there are extremely helpful for a teacher.
I thought kindergarten would be a good place to start. I went in at 11am and read The Plump and Perky Turkey. It was so fun. It was great. I started adding actions and asking questions. Next thing I knew I had at least 20 kindergartens following my lead learning what strutting was because we were strutting like a plump and perky turkeys. I left that room and told my teammate, "Maybe one day I will teach kindergarten."
I went back at 3pm for the afternoon class. I actually arrived early I was so excited. Same book. Same actions. Couldn't wait.
A little more than half way, yet before the strutting began the five year old, innocent, little, blonde boy began vomitting all over himself. I can barely handle that with my own kids.
I looked at the teacher at his desk and said, "Mr. C. we have a sick friend here." He casually walked over (he must be immune to this kind of thing) to get the child. Vomit was still a flowing so I reached over to grab the trash to swing it around to this kid and accidentally hit another kid in the head with the trash can. (Lucking it's not a real can and it's made out of plastic) Mr. C took the sick kid out. That didn't stop the drama. Since there was puke all over the rug and many children were beginning to gag we moved the 'party' over to another corner and ended up strutting in the hall instead of around the room.
The kids were saying how gross etc. it was that this kid puked and then I told them the very true story of me puking all over the tile floor in 2nd grade. It splattered everywhere and it was so embarrassing I got choked up telling the story today. Maybe I was choked up because I was still on the verge of vomiting myself, but either way. . .
I don't think I can ever read The Plump and Perky Turkey the same way again.
I really think Mr. C should get a raise.