In Australia, we have a van, called ‘Life Education’. It promotes healthy living and educates all children (younger children more subtly) about drug use and its dangers. The younger children engage with a giraffe named Harold. The van is AWESOME and I loved visiting when I was a kid.
The visit can bring up feelings of worry and concern as it discusses smoking and how bad it is for you. Children who have parents who smoke usually want to talk about this after the visit.
A child asked me,
“Have you ever smoked, Miss Rainbow?”
Before I could tell them that no, never have I smoked a cigarette, I was told,
“No, you’re too pretty to smoke.”
And that was that!
A child in my class had the sulks today. After I asked what was wrong, I was told, rather explosively,
“I didn’t get a turn on the interrupting whiteboard!”
Umm, righteo, child!
So there’s this show in Australia. It’s been around for years. It’s classic, beautiful and one of my favourites. When I was a kid, I wanted to be on the show. It’s called, ‘Play School’.
After a weekend of painting with my other half, I was asked to sing less as we had the radio on in the background. I sung louder. He told me he felt sorry for my class (jokingly).
At school on Monday, I sung something, only to be told, ‘Miss Rainbow, you should be on Play School!’
THE. BEST. COMPLIMENT.
E V E R.
While at our sports carnival on Friday, parents and siblings were cheering on their children in the relay races. One sibling, cheered for their brother in a rather, interesting way…
“Go, Jack, shake ya tail feather!”
On a loud, hot, busy day in an open, large space outside, a roar of laughter erupted!
Today, while discussing siblings and the sizes of families, one child announced,
“Well my Mother has five children and she delivered them all naturally. Dad had enough once she had me, so she’s got the clip in her belly to stop the babies getting in!”
Good to know, child. Good to know.
While playing a gam of ‘Round the World’ with my class one child became quite anxious. Initially, as the competing children came closer to her, she said she had butterflies. Then, as the child approached her chair to stand behind, she announced,
“Oh it’s just too much! I need to go and do a nervous wee! I’l be back…’
And off she ran to the bathroom before her competing turn arrived!
Today, we were on an excursion and the toilets were unsavoury to say the least (I wouldn’t let my dog sniff them…). I had pre-warned the children to try to go to the toilet twice before we left, as well as not to guzzle the water in their water bottle. At the end of our exploring, one child came to me and said, ‘Miss Rainbow, I know the toilets are bad, but that seriously doesn’t even matter to me right now. That’s how much I’m busting.’ I told her I explained that I understood her ‘busting’ feeling (I actually did) but I really would prefer for her to hold it until we got back to school (on a nice, bouncy bus).
One child had a better suggestion,
“She could just do a bush wee!”
In Australia, that’s the equivalent of taking a squat (for a lady) in a forrest or any sort of nature-like setting.