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Kid: this is my chair. You can call me ‘king,’ by the way.”

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Kid: “I can’t do the trick now because I’m out of enj.”

Me: “Enj?”

Kid: *nods *

Me: “Oh! You mean ‘energy.'”

Kid: “That’s what I meant.”

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Kid: “I have shoes in my rocks.”

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Me: “You are a silly goose.”

Kid: “No I’m not. Gooses are mean.”

Me: “Well, you’re a nice goose.”

Kid: “I’m not a goose.”

Me: “What are you then?”

Kid: “I’m Kerrie.”

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Kid: “I don’t eat monsters for breakfast or dinner.”

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Me: “Go put your blanket away.”

(Boy grins): “Yes, master.”

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Kid: “Don’t make me smile. I want to be serious.”

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Me: “Is that a bug bite? The bugs must love you.”

Boy: “Maybe it’s because I have a bug [picture] on my shirt.”

Me: (nods seriously) “That’s certainly possible.”

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Kid: “Play ‘Down the Rosies’!”

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Outside, the other kids playing at various things. A kid comes to sit down next to me, somewhat pouting.

Kid: “I want to be alone!”

Me: “You’re sitting next to me.”

Kid: “I want to be alone with you!”

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Me: “Where are your glasses?”

Kid: (Points over tall fence)

Me: “How did they get over there?!”

Kid: (seriously) “They flew.”

Kid’s sister: “It’s true! I saw them. They flew!”

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Note to self: ‘Key-cat’ is ‘kitty-cat’ in three-year-old speak.

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Note to self: When you give a five-year-old boy a football, he will undoubtedly invent a new game. Such as, ‘Foot-base.’

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A note written on my phone, confiscated by a seven-year-old. Also known as my ‘elf helper’

‘Miss arielle is crazy. She is crazy when she sleeps, she is crazy when she eats, she is crazy at home, she is crazy at school, she is crazy everywhere. But she is still our grandma.’

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Me: “Shia, you have 16 marks for the Quiet Time Game.”

Shia: “I’m not–”

Me: “That’s 17.”

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Me: “Shush!”

Kid: “My mouth can’t stop talking.”

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Playing soccer with five-year-olds is a lot like playing Calvinball. Goals frequently reverse, the kids forget who’s on whose team, and sometimes the kids are outraged that another kid stole the ball from them. Sometimes a kid will even pick up the soccer ball, put it under his arm, and dash to make a touchdown. Gotta love little ones 🙂

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I come up to a kid playing with magnets.

Me: “Go potty.”

Kid: “But wait, I’m doing magic.”

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Me: “Stop running that truck into the walls!”

Kid: “I wasn’t! It was the truck!”

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I also just about died laughing when one of my five-year-olds was trying to get me to spell ‘seal’ on the ceiling with my laser light, and I couldn’t understand him, so he imitated a seal’s call (with the head movement, to boot), and I just about died laughing.

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If the kids call me ‘Grammy’ one more time, I really am going to duct tape them to the ceiling.

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I don’t understand kids. You can get after them all day for one thing or another, and then they still come rushing over to give you a hug as you’re heading out at the end of the day, and one gives you a kiss on the cheek. Darlings . Terrors too, but darlings.

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So… The kids tried to turn my hair into dreadlocks today. Not appreciated.

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You know you have a good job when you’re settling down the kids for nap time and one of your little wildmen asks for the Fisherman Story. So you tell it again, but with a few added characters and a few twists since there’s diff kids there

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A good end to the day when you’re heading out the door after goodbyes from the bobbins and one of the kids says, “Love ya!” Happy

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Found out one of my girls has an evil laugh, especially when she’s ‘trapping’ me (until I escape, with great difficulty) inside magic chalk circles.

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