Whilst strolling through the cafeteria on my way back from my prep, I spied Harold, a first grader who spent all of Kindergarten eating. His pencils, his erasers, his crayons, everyone else's pencils and erasers and crayons, his belt, his books, various other things which do not bear repeating at the dinner hour, you name it, it went in to his mouth. He also has a pronounced helium voice (sort of like Froggy in those old "Our Gang" shows), and he would randomly get up and take a jog out the classroom door and down the hall to visit other classrooms.
But, since last year, Harold's come a long way. I saw him sitting nicely today eating actual food at the lunch table. I admit it, since he is not my student, I am free to be under the spell of his cuteness. I meandered over to see what was on Harold's mind these days. It went like this:
Teacher: Heyyyy Harold, how's it going?
Teacher: What's for lunch?
Harold: Fish sticks!
Teacher: Oh yeah? Are they good?
Harold: (sly grin and narrowed eyes) They're better than YOU are!
Guess I know where I am on Harold's totem pole.