Last month, in an unexpected twist of fate, I was offered the job of meeting 500 preschoolers in 45 days. To the uninitiated and in the abstract, meeting 500 preschoolers may seem an unmenacing task. At least that’s how it seemed to me when I was offered this job. Still, I would never have imagined myself working in this context. I accepted the position anyway thinking it would be a breeze. Ha! In the days that followed I came to liken the task to being trampled by a herd of wildebeest. As it turns out 500 preschoolers is a lot.
The fact is preschoolers are creepy people. They come to school clean and groomed, shirts tucked, shoes tied, hair wound in neat braids. Kinda cute even. Within 10 minutes they start to unravel showing hints of their true nature. Eventually they erupt into full-blown disarray with noodle-encrusted hair, milk-mustached upper lips, and booty fingers. In this state, their teachers would bring them to me and attempt to reclaim order by lining them up to sit in neat rows, and then telling them to behave and to wait quietly for their turns. That structure worked for only a few moments. The short legs dangling over the edge of too-large chairs would start kicking idly at the empty air causing the laces of their sneakered feet to lose all restraint and start dancing wildly. A few moments later, the preschoolers would simultaneously begin practicing their unique talents. There were the prize fighters who liked to throw punches at each other, the stuntmen jumping out of chairs and running into things, and the gymnasts who did Cirque de Soliel routines using the chairs as props in strange balancing acts.
Preschoolers ooze fluids. I’ve been cried on, sneezed on, and spit on. The spitting was not malicious, but rather with great enthusiasm. On one occasion a great potty frenzy swept the room, which ended badly and predictably with an “accident.” In the natural course of things, my third week on the job I caught the Preschool Crud, rendering me bed-ridden for 2 ½ days with a fever and sore throat.
The 45 days are over and phase one of the job is complete. This week I’ve jumped back into the fray for round two.
As a result of this whole weird experience, I’ve come to the conclusion that preschool teachers should be lauded with firemen and police officers as heroes in our nation’s workforce. I’m not kidding. Having seen these women in action, I can honestly say they are nothing short of amazing given the occupational hazards and with their grace under fire.
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September 29, 2012 at 4:35 am
fiveintow
Can mothers of preschoolers get an award too? ‘Cause that would be really great.
September 29, 2012 at 10:31 pm
Lunar Euphoria
Absolutely! Mothers of children of any age need awards!
October 2, 2012 at 10:32 am
Amy
My son has booty fingers sometimes. And he plays with everything in the house. Mostly his little booty/booger fingers like to play with my phone. Nothing builds your immune system like one year working in a school!
October 4, 2012 at 12:55 pm
Lunar Euphoria
Ewww — booty AND booger fingers! Quite the combo. haha
October 4, 2012 at 3:57 am
Dana
I commend you and and all the people who interact with preschoolers worldwide! I wouldn’t last 10 minutes with a preschooler. The only exception is my niece, but even when spending time with her, I fear for my life. 😉
October 4, 2012 at 12:55 pm
Lunar Euphoria
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!