Today was my first volunteer day in Kelsey's second-grade class. Last year, I worked with kids on reading in their groups or individually. This year, I wanted to do something that took less time, less commitment, and that didn't involve working directly with the kids. (Aren't I a bag?) So I volunteered to do publishing. Right up my alley.
I type the stories they write into Word. Today's stories were their autobiographies. They're so damn funny, I could hardly contain my laughter at times.
My name is XXX! I am in secint grade! I have 2 bruthers! I have a mom! I have a dad! My parents are divorst! I have a cat! My favorite TV show is Hana Montana! My other favorite TV show is High School Musical 1 and 2! I like to play with my freinds! I like to play soccer and singing!
etc.
Some kids wrote four pages. Kelsey, love, wrote about four sentences. I remember her coming home from school and complaining about having to write things about herself. She said she wanted to write real stories and that other kids were writing dumb things like what their favorite TV shows were. Having read the stories, it's an interesting perspective and retrospective.
Anyway, I sat there typing away. Their stories were in a pile on my little desk. I just read them and typed them in. Finally, one kid leaned over.
"You type really fast!" she said in a loud whisper.
"I do, don't I?" I am useless talking to people.
Another kid turned around and watched me. A look of astonished admiration lit his little face.
"How do you do that?" he asked me, watching my hands.
"I've had a lot of practice," I said.
"You're not even looking! How can you do that?" He stood up and moved his face from mine to my hands to the computer screen.
"Well, I--"
"You're not looking," he said again.
I smiled. There was a time when I couldn't do that. Ages ago. "I've been doing this a long time," I said.
He tired of me then and started pestering Kelsey instead. I told him to get back in his seat. He did. God, I'm powerful.
It was fun to be in the class. Kelsey wanted to sit in my lap. I like it that she will show affection in front of her classmates.
I only took typing in high school because I found out from my friend Heather that Jeff, the object of my obsession, was in it, and I would do anything, including completely screwing up my schedule to switch into typing, to be around him. I didn't exist to him, of course, but I got to be near him, for whatever that was worth, and I learned how to type.
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