Kids say the darnedest things.
I’ve heard Mom’s stories of her first grade students candidly commenting on her haircuts, cheesy Christmas sweaters, when she lifts her arms and they accidentally see her white belly button, and that time she dyed her hair a tinge too maroon.
But in Korea, everything about me, on me and in me is seen through a magnifying class with ten times the strength of its American counterpart.
“Teacher. Fireman?” — The day I started wearing a hand-me-down red winter coat to school.
“Teacher. Lindsay Teacher’s nose looks like this.” A student drawing a picture of my pointy noise on a white board to a foreign teacher at a totally different school today. Later the foreign teacher wrote it on my Facebook wall. Thanks.
“Whit Teacher. Do you and Lindsay Teacher kiss?” My second graders who had Whit today due to a scheduling conflict.
“Whit Teacher. Do you and Lindsay have a baby?” Same second graders.
“Why not?” Same kids. Aren’t they sweet.
“You know if you really want a baby you can take a shower together.”