Some days I am certain I am the world’s best teacher. My students are turned on, tuned in and popping answers like popcorn. Then there are days like today. We were talking birthdays. I gave mine. One of my dear little darlings piped up, perplexed, “You mean you’re only 18 days older then I am?”
Most of the class laughed. He stood, mouth open, frowning, and said, “That doesn’t make sense!” One of his classmates told him that we were born different years. The poor kid snapped, “What difference would that make?”
I think I’d like that kid’s report card back to reassess his math grade. And maybe I should give that glowing evaluation back to my supervisor so he can reassess that kid’s teacher.