I am no longer in the category of jobless bum scrounging off the generosity of my parents, wondering what sort of paperwork I’d need to apply at the local homeless shelter. Not that it was ever really that bad at all. But I am now the proud wearer of the title “Day Care Worker: Substitute.” Seems like I should add “Second Class.” If there’s blue collar work, then this is white collar work - white that turns into a sort of greenish brown as the day progresses.
But I enjoy this new job of mine. Let’s just say it’s . . . interesting. Although I have to admit it would be even more glorious if they’d add a few horses like the ranch out in Oregon. I’m pretty sure they could fit at least two, maybe three, on the grass around the playground. There’s even a fence already up. But, as it now stands, I’m still far from bored. Who could be when you’re surrounded by kids madly waving a rather sea-sick crab spider two inches from your nose, or standing tip-toe on a chair to let a balloon loose in the ceiling fan? Yep, every single one of these snack-loving, shirt-chewing, sand-throwing, bare-footed, loose-toothed children is a grand adventure just waiting to be set down in Indiana Jones’ jungle. Otherwise known as day care. And they look like such angels during nap time.
But I think what has surprised me most is a far more serious thing: the eyes of those children following my every move, wordlessly telling me, “We are watching you.” Like the conversation I had with a little boy named Eli several days ago. Eli and his friend had just finished their snack and were having a sort of contest to see who could proclaim “Dang it!” with more strong, manly vigor. Now I am well aware that there are much worse things children could be saying, but at the same time there was no need for them to be carrying on so. Quietly, I took Eli aside, and, upon my questioning, he proudly announced that he had learned the expression from his dad at home. Talk about being in danger of undermining parents. So, I took a different route. I explained to Eli that some of the kids in day care didn’t have fathers who said “Dang it!” at home, and if they heard him, they might start saying it too, and they didn’t really need to. In other words, “Eli, you are being watched by the other children. If you lead, they will follow, so you better make sure you are leading well.” Eli pondered this for a moment, and a very grave look came over his face, like I had just entrusted him with an important but dangerous mission. Then he turned to go. I watched silently as Eli scampered over to his friend, the one who had been yelling with him, took him aside, and began to explain, “Cooper, we’re not supposed to say ‘Dang it’ anymore, cause the other kids are watching, and . . .”
They’re listening better than we think.
