Kids, Life, Classrooms, Nationality, and Pain

“Jimmy’s dog died last night.  Mr. Mark asked Jimmy if he was okay and he said he was but then he got hysterical and had to go home.  He said someone told him that the pain would make him stronger but he said that was a lie.  He said pain made him hateful and it hurt his stomach.  I think he’s right.”

“So do I.  Imagine how lovely life would be without pain and suffering.  All pain and suffering gives you is…pain and suffering.  Who really wants to learn things that way?  If you never have pain, you can always be happy.  Suffering doesn’t make you a better person, it can sometimes destroy you as a person.”

“That’s what I thought.  Look what happened to Sandra.  She used to laugh all the time. She was happy.  Now she’s angry, sometimes mean and growling.  She doesn’t trust anyone and she constantly worries about dogs being stolen.  She said her life isn’t nearly as nice as it used to be and she’s just glad her father is dead, or things would be even worse.   Her pain made her unhappy.”

“I get that.  Her childhood ended abruptly.   She was innocent and happy before her father left.  So, the pain of not being wanted and the fear of having her dog stolen, took the joy from her life and made her see that life was different from what she originally thought it was.  At least she’s not feeling sorry for herself.”

“She yelled at the man who lives across the street from her house.  She told him that if he left his family and tried to take the dog, she would hunt him down and get the dog back.”

“The man told her he was happy where he was and she shouldn’t worry, but she told him that she would be watching him.  She said she wished she could have seen her dad before he died so she could have told him how much she hated him.  I told her that I think he knew and she smiled at me for the first time in two weeks.”

“She’ll make a great lawyer.”

“My teacher thinks so too.  She wants to start a debate club, so she’s going to talk to the teacher in charge of speeches and see if she can make it happen.”

“I hope it works out.”

“A new kid is starting in a couple of days.  She’s from a different state, so she’ll know different things.”

“Ah, geography again.”

“Yes.”

“Sally brought her pet raccoon to school today.  His name is Three and he’s very nice.  She named him Three because there were three babies and he was the third one.”

“That works.”

“Sam passed out during math.  He forgot to take his allergy medicine and couldn’t breath.  He’s okay though.  His dad brought his inhaler to school.”

“You have an interesting classroom.”

“That’s what our teacher said.  Mindy came in early and drew pictures on the blackboard.  She’s a great artist so now Mr. Mark can’t write anything down because he said her work is too good to erase.   He got a dry eraser board from storage and he’s using that.”

“Nice guy, Mr. Mark.”

“Philip tripped over the wastebasket and hit his head.  He had to go to the nurse’s office and get an ice pack.”

“Never a dull moment.”

“Stuff happens all the time.”

“All the time.”

“A lot of kids can’t have ice cream for breakfast.”

“It’s perfect with waffles and besides, ice cream doesn’t know what time it is, so breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack…what’s the difference?”

“That’s what I said.  Everyone agreed with me except for Billy and he never agrees with anyone.  Am I Italian?”

“You’re part Sicilian.”

“Isn’t that Italian?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“Bread is Italian.”

“Bread is life, Baby.  Bread makes it all worthwhile.”

“We eat a lot of bread.  Most people don’t eat carbs.”

“Most people don’t eat ice cream for breakfast either.”

“What am I besides Sicilian?”

“Lots of stuff from your dad’s side and my mom’s.”

“Then why do you tell everyone who asks that your Italian?”

“Because that’s the loudest part of me.”

“That makes sense.”

“Sure it does.”

“Can I watch The Godfather?  Dad said the house looked like your grandmother’s place.  Lace curtains and all.”

“That was my father’s mother.   My mother was Swedish, so there was a balance there.  Big food and dainty food.  Heavy stuff and fluffy stuff.”

“Can I watch it?”

“It’s too violent.”

“Are Italian’s violent?”

“Everyone is violent.”

“When I get older can I watch it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll ask again in a couple of weeks.  I’m going to go and write a poem.”

“You do that.  Love you, Baby.”

“Love you too.”