New development. The kids want a structured activity.
I do not say What the fuck?
I say, You mean, you want me to choose an activity, and force you all to do it?
So, we go outside.
Let's, um, look for rocks, says I.
They all want to know why.
Because that's the activity! Because I said! GO GO GO!.
They bring me plaid skirtloads of rocks.
To make it look like I have a plan, I reject some.
Too big . . . too lumpy . . .this one just won't do at all.
Back inside, we wash the rocks.
Now what? they all want to know.
"Yay!" all around.
I find myself at the head of a table of a dozen kids smearing glue and glitter onto rocks, happy, not bickering, busy.
Pete: "Wouldn't it have been easier just to tell me?"
me: "it's a stupid, stupid phobia."
Pete: "but it's the way you feel."
Also, I discovered I don't hate raisins after all.