"June and July is brothers, ain't they? I was layin' awake thinking about that last night."
I'm leaving public school teaching. For real, this time. But I'll never stop working with kids completely, and this is why. Nobody but a third-grader would think of something like that -- and not only think of it, but lie awake at night going over it in his head.
What I love just as much is how his classmate understood completely:
"Yep, 'cause they got J's. And April and August is sisters."
"That's right. But February ain't got any brothers and sisters. It's all alone."
"Nah, it's lucky."
Every spring, sometime shortly after I've decided to leave public school teaching (and this is the third spring I've made that decision), I have a rainy morning full of IEP preparations and paperwork and hoops to jump through -- mornings like today, and like the one I blogged about last year -- and on each of those mornings, the kids manage to say something that make the paperwork and the stress and the craziness stop, just for a second. And I remember why I'm here and why I love them. And also why I'm leaving.
What job will let me work with the kids instead of ignoring them for paperwork? Does that job exist? If so, I want it.