...lick your shoe. That was the mental image I carried home Wednesday of a large four year old sitting crisscross applesauce at "line time" and licking the bottom of his sneaker. There must be situations more life-and-death than the preschool "line time" around the "big rug". During so many years of line times I've seen every possible appendage and digit stuck in every possible orifice, and heard every possible variation of the adjust-my-velcro-shoes percussion solo. This was the first time I saw a child contorted like a pretzel and still able to lick the bottom of his shoe. It must be the end times. Sit crisscross applesauce, contemplate your navel, and kyagb.
© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder