At Least It’s Not A Velociraptor

, , , , , | Related | October 10, 2018

(I overhear this conversation:)

Child: “My mommy is pregnant.”

Coworker: “Congratulations. Do you know what she is having?”

Child: “She is having a boy…”

(Pause:)

Child: “…or a girl.”

Coworker: *laughing* “Well, I’m glad she’s not having a puppy.”

They’re Going To Focus On This; Make No Bones About It

, , , , , | Learning | September 25, 2017

(It’s the end of the day in the four-year-old class, and the kids are pretty much playing at whatever they feel like. One asks me to read her a cute science-y book about skeletons, so I oblige her, and she hops into my lap. This happens as I am reading a page which faces a picture of a jolly-looking skeleton with all the major bones labeled.)

Me: *reading* “’…but your shape can never change, because you have a skeleton inside you.’”

Kid: *pointing at the pelvic bone and shouting* “IS THAT YOUR VAGINA?!”

(Two other kids overhear this and think it is a funny word.)

Other Kids: “VAGINA? VAGINA?”

Me: “…can I please read?”

(I wasn’t going NEAR that one!)

Happy Meal

, , , , , | Related | July 25, 2017

(I am roughly five years old at the time and I am a curious child.)

Me: “Mummy, why do we buy chicken in the yellow packet and not the normal one?”

Mum: “Well, the chickens in the yellow packets were fed good food and lived in the country so they were very happy. So we only buy happy chickens.”

Me: “If they were so happy, why did we kill them?”

Mum: “Well…”

Not THAT Kind Of Role Play

| Germany | Working | April 20, 2015

(I’m 17 and I work as an au pair in Germany, looking after two children. I’ve asked my employers if I can take a weekend and a Friday off during June to go to Amsterdam with my girlfriend and her father for a tabletop RPG convention, and am now trying to explain what RPGs are. The dialogue takes place in German, which is not my first language.)

Me: *haltingly* “You pretend to be a character and play a story with other people.”

Mother: “Like theatre? On a stage? I didn’t know you were an actress!”

Me: “No, no, just in a room with a few people. No audience. You just make up the story as you go along.” *I mean to say costumes, but instead say clothing* “You don’t wear any clothing but sometimes you have props.”

Mother: *obviously thinking it’s something sexual and being horrified because of my age* “Is that legal?!”

Me: *not understanding her horror* “Yes, of course! People come from all over the world; meeting new people is part of the fun.”

Mother: “I don’t think you should go… Your girlfriend’s father plays as well?”

Me: *suddenly realises my mistake* “Oh… OH! I meant costumes, not clothing! Everyone wears clothing! No one takes their clothing off! Especially not [Girlfriend’s 56-year-old father]!”

(We laughed over the mistake later and I managed to explain better, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget the time I told the mother of the children I look after that I play games with strangers with my clothes off!)

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Tit For Tat(too)

| | Right | October 30, 2009

(I have a tattoo on my foot of a vine of ivy. Usually, I hide it with my socks and shoes while working, but one day they get wet on the playground so I take them off to keep from getting blisters. While I’m changing shoes, a child notices the tattoo.)

Child: “Oh! What’s that?”

Me: “It’s a tattoo. It’s like a permanent drawing on your skin that you can get when your 18.”

Child: “Can I touch it?”

Me: “Sure, it just feels like skin.”

(Several kids come over to touch my tattoo. A mother walks in.)

Mother: “Is that a tattoo?”

Me: “Yes.”

Mother: “You should be ashamed! You are setting a bad example for these children! That could be a gang symbol or related to drugs like marijuana!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s just ivy.”

Mother: “What?! I don’t know anything about your drug symbols. This is highly unprofessional and I will be speaking to your boss! Advocating drugs like this!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Next time I’ll be sure to hide my tattoo, but I assure you it has nothing to do with drugs or any illegal behavior.”

Mother: “You’d better! I can’t believe you would be allowed to work with kids!”

(The mother bends over to pick up daughter, and I see a pair of dolphins tattooed very low on her back–AKA a “tramp stamp.” It’s visible just above her thong and low rise jeans. Rightly or wrongly, these tattoos often have a negative connotation.)

Me: “Nice dolphins.”

Mother: “I’m an adult! Don’t you judge me!”

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