ClassRoom

When I don't have photos of whatever, I poste - what eva. This one at 11:26AM in a rowdy green Izod. Brother. So this morning I join Eitan's class at the request of his teacher Mrs X. The Big Event is chocolate chip cookies and the kids prepare cookie dough using their maths and their metrics: weighing, calculating and mixing ingredients. Oh boy, it is a mess. I am assigned Eitan's table and must control myself from bossing him around or standing him in a corner. We both feel this an unfair situation BTW. Our first batch comes out a tad, ahem, over-done and Mrs. X encourages a second reminding me "it is a smart table" which I think more a reflection on me. The background noise is tremendous unless Mrs. X claps her hands twice then complete silence. She's a drill-Sargent, no doubt, but has fun with the children. Since I have been sitting class for the last three years I know most of the kids who wave or catch my eye; I reward them by knowing their names, asking the trouble-makers if they are in trouble and offering hi-fives or the Obama "rock" all around. It is good time and sure beats working - though I am certain Mrs. X considers this work, oh boy.