Tales from the Zebras

I believe I've mentioned on here that me and Bobby teach a class of three year olds (or should I say try to control the chaos) on Sunday mornings. The young kids have safari themed classroom names. We are head of the Zebras. We started this adventure back in the fall. I thought it might be fun to share some of my Sunday safari tales occasionally if you'll humor me.

Lesson learned this week:

"Mom" = behind the scenes. "Dad" = superstar.

You might wonder how I've come by this equation. Well, after several months now of teaching this class you would think the kids would have learned our names. Instead, they have learned the name"Mr. Bobby" quite well...but still insist on calling me "the Other One" or sometimes the affectionate variation "the Girl One".

To be sure, I do not blame this on the kids in the slightest. I place this squarely on "Mr. Bobby's" shoulders. You see, early on when the kids were asking where the "Boy One" was...I would correct them by saying, "Do you mean Mr. Bobby? He's coming right behind me....". However, this week I noticed that the kids still don't know my name (I've even stooped so low as to point to the picture on my volunteer tag and say...Look! That's Ms. Shannon's picture. I get blank stares in return as they wonder in their little heads, "who the heck is Ms. Shannon? Hey Other One can I have another cracker?")...and worse "Mr. Bobby" encourages the "Girl One" mentality because of course now he knows he's really ticking me off. And there is nothing the "Boy One" loves to do more than push the "Girl One's" buttons.


However, there is an unexpected benefit to this. I get the last laugh when the kids insist that Mr. Bobby! I need to go pee. Mr. Bobby! Will you help me blow my nose? Mr Bobby! You help me flatten my germ infested play-doh. Mr Bobby! You read me the three hundred page book in five minutes.

So to all the women who think they are invisible to their kids, you probably are...but it's probably your husband's fault.