I was walking around the class room this afternoon monitoring 11 pairs of sixth graders engaged in lively discussions about a couple of characters in the short story we had just read together. I paused at one table, confused to see a large stainless steel soup spoon laid next to a binder as if set for lunch. "What is that?" I asked the student sitting there.
"A spoon," he answered.
"But why is it there?" I continued.
"It was in my pocket," he told me.
"From lunch?" I guessed.
"Nope," he said.
Then why?" I wondered.
He shrugged. "I have no idea. I just reached in for a pencil and there it was."
Years ago, on the first cold night of Autumn, we took Josh and Treat, then ten-years-old, to a "haunted forest" for Halloween. Emily pulled last season's warm coats from the back of the closet and the boys squeezed into them, then stepped back so we could evaluate the fit. They were snug, but fine for one evening and Treat slipped his hands into familiar pockets as we headed out into the cold dark.
"Hey--" He paused at the door and produced a pair of underwear. "What are these doing here?"
We laughed and figured that he must have stuffed them away after an overnight trip either to our house or his grandparents'. "Are they clean?" I asked. "Because they might come in handy if the forest is as scary as they say!"
"A spoon," he answered.
"But why is it there?" I continued.
"It was in my pocket," he told me.
"From lunch?" I guessed.
"Nope," he said.
Then why?" I wondered.
He shrugged. "I have no idea. I just reached in for a pencil and there it was."
Years ago, on the first cold night of Autumn, we took Josh and Treat, then ten-years-old, to a "haunted forest" for Halloween. Emily pulled last season's warm coats from the back of the closet and the boys squeezed into them, then stepped back so we could evaluate the fit. They were snug, but fine for one evening and Treat slipped his hands into familiar pockets as we headed out into the cold dark.
"Hey--" He paused at the door and produced a pair of underwear. "What are these doing here?"
We laughed and figured that he must have stuffed them away after an overnight trip either to our house or his grandparents'. "Are they clean?" I asked. "Because they might come in handy if the forest is as scary as they say!"
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