I subbed for a 3rd grade teacher today.
We had a Foster Grandparent in the class today. He was fantastic. Usually Foster Grandparents just sit in the back of class and glare at me, like I'm doing everything wrong, but not this guy. Today would not have gone nearly as well if Grandpa J. hadn't been there.
The students had to write their last letter, today, to their "Soldier Friends." The note left to me said that I had to approve any letters before they could be considered "done." One boy handed me a letter with the following line, "I hope none of your friends have gone to Heaven." I knew what he meant... but that may not have been the most tactful way to put it. I had him just rephrase the line.
Little Girl: Mr. C.! Guess what, I came up with a new name for you!
Mr. C.: ...oh?
Little Girl: You're so funny that I'm going to call you Mr. Giggles!
Mr. C.: No... no, you're not. You can stick to Mr. C. just like everyone else.
During recess, which I had to supervise, a little girl came up to me and show me a caterpillar that she had on a stick. She told me his name was George, and then gave me his whole life story. Later, as everyone was lining up to go in, I saw her bawling her eyes out at the back of the line. When I was finally able to calm her down a bit, she told me that another girl had proclaimed George as "gross," and stepped on him. She then went back to crying uncontrollably, all the while proclaiming her love for George. I sent her to Grandpa J.