Out of the Mouths of Babes

At work this evening, one of our younger students was doing a math lesson on calendars.

A couple of weeks ago, unrelated to the calendar skills, I had told him when my birthday is, and how old I am.

(It involved another kid's MLK Day homework, and the fact that I was born about a month after MLK was assassinated.)

So, tonight, after I'd asked him "What's the most important day in May?" (my birthday, of course!) we had the following exchange, at full volume, for the entire center to hear:

Mr. Teacher: What day is your birthday, Ms. Whozat?

Ms. Whozat: The 11th.

Mr. Teacher: Ok, Kid, let's see what day of the week Ms. Whozat's birthday is.

Kid: Saturday! (It wasn't a current calendar that he was looking at.)

Ms. Whozat: Right, but this year, it's actually on a Sunday. It's on Mother's Day.

Kid: You're not a mother.

Ms. Whozat: Well, no, I'm not.

Mr. Teacher: Not yet. (He is privy to our plans. Probably more than he'd like to be.)

Ms. Whozat: Yeah, not yet.

Kid: You can't be a mother.

Ms. Whozat: Why?

Kid: You can't be pregnant.

Ms. Whozat: Why?

(I'm really starting to wonder, at this point, what assumptions he's made about me!)

Kid: It's tooooo laaaaate noooow! You're thirty-nine!

Great, so now eight year olds are dissing my fertility!