For an hour or so once a week, I volunteer in my son's first-grade class. I'm supposed to be helping these 5- and 6-year-olds become better readers, but often it's about me escaping with my sanity intact and without the virus du jour.
Sometimes, though, the assignment just clicks. Like the other week, my task was to have the kiddies cut out letters printed on a piece of paper, scramble them up on the table and put them together so they made words ending with long vowel sounds.
Words like "grow."
"How about this?" asked one of my prodigies. "Is this a good word?"
"Hmm," I said. "Let me get a ruling on that one from your teacher. … Mrs. S, is this acceptable?"
She looked at it and smiled.
"Yes. That's fine. Like Santa says, 'Ho, ho, ho!'"
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