So Paul has a running joke which he thinks is hilarious, but I beg to differ. When I least suspect it, he shouts out during class: "Teacher! Will you marry me!?"
I'm hoping it gets old soon.
Today after repeated offenses, I told him: "Paul, there is no way I will ever marry you, ever."
"Teacher, I will come to your wedding, okay?"
"You promise?? Invite me!"
"Okay I will invite you."
"Teacher, I will see you and your wife kiss! Very nice!"
"Teacher? Who will you marry?"
"I don't know, I haven't met her..."
"You marry my mother?"
"You have an evil grandmother?"
"Yes! I have seven."
"You have seven evil grandmothers?"
"Yeees! Jombie! (read: zombie)"
"You have seven evil zombie grandmothers?"
"In my dream! Last night, my terrible dream."
"About your evil zombie grandmothers?"
"Yeees! In my dream I was very little baby, and evil grandmother come, and she hold out hand, and she say 'Come my son!' and I say 'No! I don't like you evil grandmother!'"
The yarn just got more elaborate from there, involving both evil and angel grandparents battling in "evil world" where there were many ghosts and zombies and draculas, but they were all girls who shouted "Will you marry me?" in creepy voices, while infant dream-rendered Paul cried, encircled by seven evil zombie grandmothers.
"I hope I don't think my dream again. Oh! My head break!"
It all sounded quite disturbing, until the mention of the "evil doung," which I really should be surprised about.
"My grandmother like doung— but I like doung— but I don't like my evil grandmother!"
I think this is the closest thing this particular 8-year-old has ever had to a serious ethical crisis.
If your evil zombie grandmother likes doung, can she really be all that bad? Perhaps you've just misjudged her, since despite the fact that she's a zombie from "evil world," she obviously has fine taste in appreciating bodily functions.
What to do...
Tomorrow I've been promised I'll hear more about the troupe of evil grandmothers, which alternates between seven and one, and whether they visit Paul again in his "most terrible dream."
This kid has quite an imagination. He said something today which reminded me of myself as a child. At a suspiciously young age I would tell family, family acquaintances, and really any adult who would listen to me, that my full name was Samuel David Birdsall Worthington Pottery Limited Pee and Poop Brotix. I'm still not sure where the "brotix" portion came from, but today Paul proudly informed me that his name was really Paul Medicine Edison Bedison Polar Bear David Beckham Birdsall Taster's Choice.
I think my childhood self has been one-upped.
A Canadian writer teaches English and finds out what it's like to be a foreigner.