Three-Year-Old Stand Up

Yesterday Aislinn asked if Marty and I would come to her class to help with the books they're writing. I didn't find a note about it in her bag, but she said we should come at 1:00. I figured she wouldn't have invented such a specific request, so we went. Once there, I spent 40 minutes with two other parents, wandering around the classroom with bottles of whiteout. The kids were doing their final draft in ink, and every 2.4 seconds one of them raised a hand, indicating that one of us should jump in and correct a mistake.

While I was engaged, Marty was playing around with another little boy there and inadvertently entertaining the entire class with his witty repartee. I'm not entirely sure what's so funny about any of this stuff, but it killed with the second graders.

Teacher: How old are you?

Marty: Three.

Teacher: Wow, you’re just a little bit older than my little boy.

Marty: Yep, and I just keep going on the potty (pronounced pottah).

While looking at a book of maps:

Marty: I live in Virginia.

Friend: I live in Virginia too.

Marty: If you live in Virginia and I live in Virginia, that must mean we’re twins.

While lying in a bean bag chair:

Marty: I'm going to count to sixty, and then we're out of here.

Mommy: It's not time to go yet.

Marty: Time to hit the trail. Do you know what “hit the trail” means?

Friend: Yeah, it means when two cars hit together.

Marty: Nope, it means ride out.

While looking at a globe:

Marty: Actually I live in South Dakota.

When it was time to leave:

Marty: I’m just so emotional right now.

We're going back tomorrow again tomorrow (prior to our engagement with Lauren at the Kite Day festivities). Something tells me he'll have more material.