Imperfect

We're running out of time in my boy's reading group, and so the kids have to read a chapter on their own every night so we can finish the book. The deal is if they do it and remember their copy of the book, they get a snack. In the last few days, roughly half of them have earned the reward.

"Guys!" I said this morning to the other six, "what's going on?"

"I don't care about the snack," answered one. "I only like it when you read to us."

"Thank you," I said. "In a perfect world," I continued, "we would have time for me to read the whole book out loud, but with the snow and weather delays, we don't have time for that."

"In a perfect world," one of the other boys said in his snarkiest tone, "we wouldn't be at school at all."

"You know you don't mean that!" I said. "You love it when I read to you!"

I was teasing, but he was quite earnest when he amended his remark. "In a perfect world, we would have this class all day!"

Aw, shucks.