A toe tapper and knee slapper.

I have a feeling that Forth would like to blog about something because he is pressuring me to publicize an encounter that I had with one of my students today, so……here ‘goes.

I retrieved my 2nd grader for a tutoring session this morning and while she had messy hair and was drowning in an oversized sweater, I noticed she was being particularly antsy as well. Though when she was struggling to turn the pages of “Poggy the Frog Eats Flies,” by licking her fingertips and pinching the page corners in vain, I was particularly surprised when she threw the book down on the table and exclaimed,

“Who makes these things anyway??”

That sentence was like a burst of heat to the ice of my customer-service hardened heart and in addition made me yearn for  a simpler time when maybe you didn’t graduate college and suddenly have no idea what you want to do or be or where you want to live and what you’re supposed to think about life. But at the end of the day my adorable, hilarious, little 2nd grader forgets her frustration and gets on the number 308 bus home and I know at least I’ve married the perfect man and might make some kids’ lives a little bit better, at least from 8:00-2:30 p.m. so, win…….and win.

**Back.

Swimming Pool.

I am about 40% happier in life right now. Why? Well because I don’t JUST serve coffee to douchebags anymore. Nope. I can proudly arch my thumb back towards my chest and say, “I teach little kids how to read.” It’s something worthwhile, fun, and makes me NOT want to jab a pencil through my eyeballs.

I now spend 20 hours a week as a tutor in the Americorps/Spark Literacy program through the Boys & Girls Clubs. Could any of you imagine me enjoying spending time with 7 & 8 year-olds? No. Neither could I….trust me. But after only a few meetings, the kids are excited to see me and eager to put forth their best effort during our half hour sessions. (Though probably just because I gave them fruit snacks and stickers.) It pays meagerly since it is technically a volunteer job with a “living stipend,” so I have to remain at my coffee shop job 2-3 times a week, but things have improved nonetheless.

Working with a largely Spanish-speaking underpriveliged public school population versus the uppity ignoramuses of the North Shore seems to balance my rage and I am now considerably more relaxed at the cafe (though Cup of Angst lives on!). Even better, the kids are adorable, and they make me laugh and smile so much that the inner core of my being is beginning to soften just a little bit. I mean, when you listen to a 2nd grader earnestly guess “swimming pool” while trying to read the word “easy” and interpret the word “lazy” to be “reindeer,” you can’t help but love them just a little bit…..especially when this little girl has a pet named Chopper the Wonder Dog. And when my 3rd grader who I’m certain is going to grow up to look just like Lucien from Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain does a ninja kick in the air and screams “YES!” every time he sees me, well…..that feels good.

But now that I dress like a real-adult human, have a real-adult job (sort of), and write lesson plans like a real-adult teacher, I really want a real-adult car instead of this.

But oh well. Whatever. Here’s our kitty being all, “Oh, when I’m NOT burying myself in Forth’s scrotum or sleeping in his underwear, I’m being a fatty with my chew toy.”

And then abstractly saying “OMG WTF.”:

**Back.