The Packing
Today I wrote with some suave seconders. They were a boisterous crew, but I loved being back in action with writer's workshop. One kiddo didn't want to write. He asked to go to the restroom, but I told him to write a few sentences first. He went over to a corner and cried for about 20 minutes. Then he came back to his table and wrote a sentence. I compromised and sent him off to the restroom. When he came back he was carrying a huge piece of wet paper towel, which he was laying over his face while still simpering. "I need to go to the nurse now," he whinged. "I'm not feeling well."
"Not going to happen pal," I told him. So the crying began anew. Luckily, recess time came and he cheerfully went off to play, with nary a care in the world.
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