Why I Love Third Graders

I have been teaching in a third grade class all week.  I love them.  They are so fun and cute.  Sure, they have their annoying moments, like the three (or five) kids I call "the questioners" (in my head) because they walk up to ask me a question about absolutely everything.  Like this: 

Questioner:  Mrs. Lindahl, what do we do with our papers when we are done?
Me:  What have you been doing with your papers when you finish them from the beginning of the year?
Questioner:  Put them in the done basket?
Me:  Yes.

Or:

Questioner:  Mrs. Lindahl, what time are we having lunch today?
Me:  What time do you have lunch every day?
Questioner:  11:45?
Me:  Yes. 

Today we brought the kids on a field trip, which is usually a sub's NIGHTMARE because what if you don't know the kids in the class?  What if you don't know the logistics of the field trip?  What if the field trip is to a swamp with kindergarteners, and you only wore some cute little maryjane shoes, not knowing that you were going to be fishing kindergarteners out of a freezing swamp most of the morning?  See what I mean?  (seriously, it really happened, but they didn't call it a swamp, they called it a "nature center."  It was a swamp.)

Our field trip today was to the symphony and it was so fantastic!  There were about 2000 kids there and the program was geared to the elementary school student.  The kids had a great time and so did I. 

Anyway, one of the reasons I love third graders so much is because they are so weird.  I told them yesterday that it is customary to wear nice clothes to the symphony.  A girl came this morning, worried, and said to me, "Mrs. Lindahl, is it okay if I keep my sweatshirt on at the symphony today because I forgot to take off my pajama shirt when I was getting dressed."  She was wearing a pajama shirt, dress pants, and a sweatshirt.  How adorable is that?!

All week a bunch of them have been singing the words "salty nuts" in a very dissonant, sing-song voice.  It seemed a little strange, and slightly inappropriate, but I didn't say anything because I liked it, and obviously it is something they learned in school.  I learned about it today.  At the symphony the trumpet player talked about Dizzy Gillespie and how he wrote a song called "Salt Peanuts" and they played it for us.  Ohhhhhh!  Salt Peanuts!  I'm sure glad I didn't say anything about the inappropriateness of singing "salty nuts" and then having to explain to nine-year-olds why I find the words salty nuts inappropriate. (Here's why.)

I got a picture from a student today (I get pictures every day), and this one just sums up the wonderful weirdness of the typical third grader.  Here it is:

It's a picture of a girl and her giant dog, Bob.  Bob is apparently 100 feet tall and judging by his eyebrow and his speech bubble, he's not a very friendly 100 foot dog.  A squirrel (squerl, OMG!) is talking with the girl and complimenting her 100 foot, growling, angry dog.  Okay, for one thing, why would anyone want a 100 foot dog.  Can you imagine the poops?  Yuck.  And another thing, why is that masochistic squirrel anywhere near a hundred foot, angry dog, and where did it learn to speak English?  It doesn't look like Bob is tied to anything, so I imagine that in the split second after the snapshot of this picture, the squerl was torn to gory shreds.