Yesterday, I was reading the Roald Dahl book "The BFG" to my class. There is a section where the Big Friendly Giant explains to his friend/kidnapping victim Sophie that where he comes from carbonation in drinks go to the bottom rather than the top. He explains that if they go up to the top, it will lead to disgusting burps. Sophie points out that if the bubbles go down, then they lead to them coming out somewhere else.
The kids knew what she was talking about and started giggling. The BFG was happy to explain that this was considered a great thing for giants. It meant that they were happy. Giants call them whizzpoppers. My class was in stitches. At this point, he starts farting up a storm. His flatulence is so powerful that he is lifted off the ground "like a rocket."
I decided to tread on the edge of chaos. I announced to the class, "This is the first time either as a student or a teacher that I will participate in such a thing." I told them that at the count of three, they were allowed to make farting noises to a noise volume befitting a giant. You don't have to tell eight year olds twice that they are allowed to make farting noises in school. It was a beautiful cacophony of whizzpopping sounds. And of course, 17 children plus one ridiculous teacher can make quite a farting racket. The three year old Daniel would have been much amused.
Later in the page, Sophie tries her hand at some whizzpopping. I let the class make noises for her as well but I told them that they had to adjust their volume level for one appropriate to a girl, rather than a giant. They adjusted accordingly. It is days like this that I'm convinced I have the best job in the world. Sure everyone else makes more money than me, but do you get to lead 17 third graders in a farting chorus of delirious joy at your job?
Today was less eventful but there was one interesting incident at lunch when one girl burst into tears because another girl had told her that the bleu cheese in her lunch was a mold. She was inconsolable. It was hard for me to feel too sympathetic for her. Bleu cheese is disgusting and she should have known better in the first place.
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3 comments:
pffft, bleu cheese is delicious! i liked picking the crumbles off your salad last night. on the topic of tooting, you didn't really seem to enjoy it when i was making farting sounds with my vinyl chair at the indian restaurant the other night!
Dan, you are the undisputed champion of the Coffee Flats bloggers. Keep the great entries coming!
Sujan, you're right! Dan was none too amused the other night at dinner when you were making farting noises in your chair. I, on the other hand found it quite amusing. If Stone Groove were there, he would have been laughing like a little boy. Dan needs to admit that farting noises are funny, and to embrace the silliness.
-Amy
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