I just wanted to say, you know something’s a little off when your car is too small for you to fit your newly bought TV into it without opening up the box in the middle of the street with your car flashing its hazards, unpacking the styrofoam, breaking down the box, and stuffing the TV into the front seat.

Yup. We bought a TV. It’s really not that big. We blame it on the packaging. It did enable us to watch the Red Sox beat the pants off the Yankees last night, as well as indulge in an episode of Iron Chef (featured ingredient: LETTUCE!) on the Food Network, which we are definitely not supposed to be getting with our most basic of basic cable plans. But we’re not complaining.

A heated argument between two of my boys on Wednesday during lunch:

G (impassioned): “It’s a moustache! A moustache!”
T (exasperated): “It’s called facial hair. All women have at least a little hair above their lip, and some women have more. But it’s facial hair, not a moustache.”
G (dancing about the classroom, overwrought): “No, no, it’s a moustache! Have you seen this girl? It’s definitely a moustache.”
T (following, determined): “No, it’s not! It’s called facial hair! Doesn’t your mother have a little hair above her lip?”

I interrupt to call T over so I can shake his hand.

*******

Thursday: I am introducing Writers’ Workshop to my girls’ class, and taking them through a list of “writing domains” — things, people, places, memories, and ideas that I like to write about or might someday want to write about. On the list is a section entitled “Important Milestones.”

I can see all the girls’ gazes shoot straight to where it says “My first kiss.” (Note: In the boy’s class, no one so much as batted an eyelid over this one.)

The class explodes in giggles, whispers, and “ewwwwwwwwwwwww!”s.

“Ladies!” I declare, “We are writers! We write about what is real! How old do you think I am? I’ve had my share of kisses!”

Yesterday morning, during homeroom, I overhear two of them: “I want to hear about her first kiss!” “Me, too!”

*******

Last week, when I was spending a lot more time doing damage control with my boys and had a bunch more time in my girls’ class because they settle down so much more quickly, I started reading Coraline aloud to the girls. Now I seem to have gotten them addicted, and one or two of them have gone and bought the book (yay!). Everyone always wants me to read it, but unfortunately it’s not my plan to spend half an hour every day reading aloud.

K (cute as a button, teacher’s pet in training if ever there was one): “Ms. S*thi, are you going to read Coraline tomorrow?”
Me (dead seriously): “Only if you’re PERFECT.”

K’s jaw drops and her eyes open so wide it’s all I can do not to laugh.

*******

Thank god for these kids — they make this whole teaching thing (which is otherwise completely impossible) bearable.