popcorn mutiny

''My grandma, she is rich.''

''How many money does she have?''

''199.''

''My grandma is rich too. She has 420.''

-conversation overheard between Alejandro and Dominic, on the way to first grade small group

For a school fundraiser in January, Blue Ridge decided to sell popcorn for $0.25 a bag. Not realizing how many kids would be excited about this, the popcorn ran out before K-2 got a chance to buy. ''Where is the popcorn truck?'' a tall black kindergartner asked me at recess, concern furrowing his brow. ''We're about to have a popcorn mutiny on our hands,'' the principal joked.

Recess means I'm pushing kids on swings, counting to sixty in Spanish until it's time to switch, holding one end of the jump rope while tiny kindergarten Alice jumps carefully, tongue sticking out in concentration. I'm trying to convince kids to keep jackets on--most of them have variations of the same jacket, thanks to Wal-Mart and similar stores.

We play Apples to Apples Junior with my third grade phonics group (the Spanish-speaking ones). I wonder about how it will go and get a clear idea when, in the first round, the adjective ''famous'' receives the subjects ''science experiment,'' ''mustard,'' and ''Pinocchio.'' (And if Pinocchio is indeed famous, it's because I helped that student choose that word--her English is the lowest of the four). Another example: someone enters the word ''crown'' for ''enjoyable.'' The good thing? They seem to be enjoying themselves, and it gives us a nice break from the sometimes painful work of reading and practicing pronunciation correctly and spelling.

Dylan likes to go by Dilly B. Slippy (the B is for Beatrice, he tells me). Kimberly's sister's birthday party has a tie-dye, zebra stripes, and peace sign theme. We talk about the meaning of the word ''ache,'' and Virginia tells me, ''Like I get really sore arms from using the mouse.''

''We gonna get a medal and a picture of you when we graduate?'' Dominic asks me, referring to our first grade poetry group. He is all about incentives--prizes, stickers, rewards of any sort. Even a photograph of me, I guess. Heh.

When we work on sentence building with our vocab words, Alejandro, who gets really into it, writes, ''I have a drone house with three windowe.'' ''A dream house?'' I ask, clarifying. ''No, brown,'' he tells me.

Oh, what would life be without these little guys?