11 year old boys...

I'm actually an expert. I know them and I know the well. Some people have other talents, but unfortunately one of mine is the mastery of the 11 year old boy. I can read their minds, anticipate their every move, and know exactly what they will love to do or hate.I have complete control over them, like puppets. Obviously they have different personalities and some are more mature or more kind than others, but many things are constant across the board. I actually love the 11 year old boy, they're hilarious. I would prefer to be with one at a time, instead of 17 in one room. I thought I would share just one tiny moment of my life being surrounded by these creatures...

This week for writing we made "How to..." pamphlets. The activity started a couple days ago with me making a PB&J sandwich in front of them, following their instructions exactly...which led to a ripped hole in the sandwich bag, a stabbed slit in the top of the PB jar lid, etc. Not because that is what they wanted me to do, but because I was trying to make a point about giving detailed instructions. "Stick the knife in the peanut butter" is what they got if that is what they said to do next. Anyway, (this is something the 11 year old boy LOVES, by the way) the assignment was then to write exact instructions for how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That led to the next assignment of choosing something they were an expert at and making a pamphlet of directions for How to....whatever. How to french braid, how to brush your teeth, how to put in a contact, how to paint your nails, etc. The typical 11 year old boy moment I want to share is to do with How to Make a Grilled Cheese Sandwich...

Taylor chose that for his pamphlet. Today we shared the finished products in front of the whole class. Because I know them all so well, I knew exactly what would happen when Taylor got up to share his pamphlet. Colored nicely, fun pictures and title on the front, great diagrams inside and some instructions. I was actually excited for the laughter that I knew would roar when he got to step 5.

Step 5: Cut the cheese

I had prepared for the insane laughter from the boys, the tears from Taylor's eyes as he laughed-realizing for the first time the double meaning in his Step 5 , MY laughter at them, and of course...the fart sounds from the boys mouths throughout the classroom. What I didn't prepare for was the LENGTH of this laughter and the inability to move on...until I was forced to get pretty stern...lol This is my life folks. This is my sad sad life.