When usually it's nothing

Today I was the drama teacher again. Unlike the previous days, when I had first, second, and third graders, today was pre-K's turn in the drama room. All of them, apparently. The entire day was taken up by eight half-hour classes of pre-K kids.

I read some Mother Goose rhymes and the kids illustrated them with flannel board pieces for the first half. The last fifteen minutes of each session was given over to play with the fairy tale puppet sets. The younger kids were not quite as adept or familiar with the stories as the second-graders had been the day before, but the point today was really just familiarization with theater items, and a little fun, of course. I walked around showing them how to use the puppets and open their mouths and helped the kids along with the basics of the stories.

I'm actually fairly surprised at how unfamiliar the kids were with the basics: few easily recalled the three-step progressions of big eyes, big ears, big teeth of Red Riding Hood or the straw, sticks and bricks of the Three Pigs, for example. They were also surprisingly unfamiliar with the Mother Goose rhymes. I don't expect three- and four-year-olds to recite anything, but I did think it was strange how few could supply the words to, say, "Little Miss Muffet," even with prompting. These are kids who are read to by their parents (or nannies); maybe Mother Goose is out of fashion.

Anyway, after eight classes of fifteen pre-K kids each, "Hey Diddle Diddle," and Billy Goats Gruff puppetry, I was pretty tired of that routine. Give me the first-graders any day.

Speaking of repeating stuff, it was little Crafty's birthday --- Friar's son is now one year old. There was a birthday dinner, with me and Mrs. T-Bone and her two daughters in attendance. (The oldest daughter goes to prestigious, and kept calling me "Mr. Chance" and making me watch her eat chips with queso and Craisins.) Guess where we went? The same restaurant I'd been to twice this week, the Tex-Mex place mentioned here. I had the exact same thing again.

When I gave my taco order, the waiter (Mexican, of course) said, "Corn or flour tortilla?" I said, "Corn. That's the best." He smiled and said, "Yes, it is." I added, "Flour is for white losers." He smiled even more and said, "I know!"

So, if you're in a Mexican restaurant and you order flour tortillas, the Mexicans are laughing at you.