I don't really have much in the line of a job right now, I'm trying to get started at this DJ place (If you know someone who is having a wedding and needs a DJ let me know!!) And I've been working super part time at a daycare.
I love kids, I always have, this is regarded with a lot of skepticism, because apparently, men can't like children, something in their genes (or jeans....gross Skot) Well it's not the first time I've been called rather feminine.
Anyway, I love hanging out with kids, and spending time with them, and listening to them tell me their troubles about how Bobby pushed them and the whole world is about to end as a result!
I love kids, get it? Good.
I don't get too many hours at the daycare, but last week I got called in to sub for a teacher, needless to say, I was overjoyed! The fact that I had to get up at 8am barely even phased me I was so excited!
So I left my house at 8:30, it's a fifteen minute drive, and I don't have to be there until 9:30. Plenty of time right?
Turns out I suck at the whole “Where The Fuck Am I” thing....I pulled up at 9:28 am...Cutting it close eh? I don't even know how I get so terribly lost, I was a Boy Scout for crying out loud!!
Well, I'm on time. Panting, frustrated, but on time.
I get in to my room where there are fifteen kids, about 1-3 years old, who haven't seen me in about two months. The whole room goes quiet except for one little boy who was just pushed off his chair in what I like to call “The Great Applejack Struggle of Tuesday The Twelfth.”
The other teacher, we'll call her Sandy for this, looks at me and quickly turns back to what she was doing: snack.
I've eaten snacks before. I've made snacks before. I've even served children snacks before. But never before have I been so confused and amused at the chaos involved with fifteen children eating some oatmeal. There were naked children running to other rooms, a small pile of dismembered dolls, and children fighting over who got to sit next to the new scary looking man.
I had no idea what to do, mostly I just tried not to step on anyone as I served oatmeal. Sandy however, shall we call her Superwoman? She was, very possibly literally, juggling several children, breaking up a fight, cleaning dishes, and (yes AND) cleaning up my mess.
My hat is off to you my friend.
So that shows you the first ten minutes right?
As snack was wrapping up, and I was failing miserably at keeping the children in eyesight, let alone in line, Sandy sneaks up to me and says “Can I talk to you?”
Scared out of my mind that I was being fired after only being there for 10 or so minutes I followed her to a corner out of earshot of the kiddies. Quickly looking around her she leans in and whispers, “Do you want to go to the pool?”
I was very confused and almost said “That sounds lovely, but I have a girlfriend, I'm sorry.” I almost said it, I nearly wish I had said it just to see the look on her face, but I didn't! Instead I took a moment to process this whole idea and said “Yes, I would love to!”
The next few minutes I was wishing for the chaos of snack time, at least then I had a chair. Sandy turned around after speaking to me and said for everyone to hear “Who wants to go to the pool?!” For a brief instant there was peace, as every child had to process the word 'pool'.
Is it happy? Yes.
Is it fun? Yes.
Will I get to act like an utter buffoon and make my teachers chase me around? Hell yes. (Yes, the child said “hell” Fuck off)
Toys and pants and underwear and part of Peru were all thrown into the air, screaming and laughing and a small amount of crying tore through the room. And through the whole thing I found myself laughing and smiling. I love my job.
Stay tuned for part 2! In which a small girl questions gender norms, a high school gets terrorized, I chase several naked children, and the world nearly ends!
I love you like my children,