Yesterday, a little kindergartener spent the day in the main office because she was in trouble. We sat her down on a desk in the corner and kept an eye on her here and there to ensure she did her work. Occasionally we would see her poke her head out, and every time we would tell her to return to her desk and get to work.

“Can you call my mom?” she asked my friend, the secretary, during one of these moments.

“Why?” she asked her.

“Because I don’t like school anymore.”

I wanted to burst out laughing, but I kept it together until she returned to her desk, out of sight.

“Can you call my husband?” another co-worker said. “Because I don’t like work anymore.”

We had a good laugh, but eventually, we went back to work, too.

Later, the little girl left her desk again and asked my friend, “Can I go to the potty?” My friend looked at her for a moment, but before she could say anything, the little girl continued, “Because I keep farting.”

I couldn’t hold it together. I covered my face with my hands and laughed as quietly as I could. Once I saw her leave the office, I lost it. I laughed until my eyes watered.

Sometime later, the principal came out of his office to ask me to do something. “Before I do that,” I said, “can I go potty?” He looked at me funny and said,

“Yes, Mario, you can go potty.”

I smiled and said, “Because I keep farting.”

My job is the best.

My favorite little 3rd grader ran up to me after school and said, “Hi Mario.”

“Hey, how are you doing? How was your day?”

“Good.” She paused for a moment. “Is it okay if I call you Mario Man?”

“Mario Man?”

“Yeah.”

“Mario Man is AWESOME! Of course you can call me Mario Man.”

She smiled her big, toothy smile and said, “Okay!”

Kids these days.

I think my favorite tag on my website is kids these days, a collection of conversations I’ve had with the elementary kids at my school.

Aubrey stopped me and asked me if I would like to have my fortune told.

“Sure,” I said.

She pulled out about a dozen Pokémon cards and fanned them out, their backs to me. “Okay,” she said, “pick just one card but don’t look at it.”

“Okay.” I scanned my hand over the cards and picked one near the center. I did not look at it.

She grabbed it from my hand, looked at it for a bit, then showed it to me. I only saw it for a brief second before she pulled it away and said, “In your future, you’re going to get a dog!”

“A dog?” I said. “When will I get a dog?”

“Hmm,” she said, thinking about it. “When you’re fifty!” And then she ran away.

The 1st grade teacher was nearby and overheard the whole conversation. She laughed and said, “Yeah, you’ll be so sad and lonely at fifty that of course you’re going to get a dog.”

“Damn,” I said and laughed along with her.

“Freeze!”

I looked up and saw Aubrey and her big smile looking up at me. I froze and watched her grab my hand. She closed it into a fist, then grabbed my thumb and stuck it out. She grabbed my other hand and did the same thing. I stood there frozen in place with both my thumbs out, and I heard Gunner laugh behind her.

“Now stand like this,” Aubrey said. She stood on one leg. I did the same, and all the kids around us started to laugh. I must’ve looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care.

“Okay, you can unfreeze now,” Aubrey told me.

I did as she commanded and went on my way, a silly smile on my face.

Ashley, another of Aubrey’s classmates, is afraid of me. I’m not sure why, but every time she sees me, she freezes in place, as if she thinks I can’t see her if she doesn’t make a sound. Lately, when other kids see me walking around, they yell, “Ashley! Mario!” and Ashley looks around and freezes in place once she sees me. Other times, she falls on the floor and plays dead. All I can do is laugh because I have no idea what else to do.

Last week, some of the kids started to shield her with their bodies and say things like, “Nothing to see here,” or “Ashley isn’t here.” I laugh and say, “I see nothing,” and continue on my way.

I find all of this so adorable and weird and nonsensical that it has made my life that much richer, and sometimes I can’t wait until recess just to see what these silly kids do next.

A few weeks ago, my friend Ginger asked me if I would help her out with something. She was applying to the Northwest Student Exchange, a non-profit student exchange program based in Seattle, WA. Next year, she was hoping to host a teenager from Germany, and while she was filling out her application, she asked me if I would like to be the girl’s academic coordinator. Without really thinking about it, I said sure. “What do I have to do?” I asked. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Okay.”

She put my name and email down, and not long after, I received an email from the NWSE asking me if I would like to apply. I emailed back and said sure. The NWSE representative then sent me the application, I filled it out, and I setup a phone interview for the following week. When the interview came, I talked to the representative and answered questions for about an hour. I didn’t really know what to expect, but the more she told me about the program and the role I played, the more I started to get excited about it. According to their website, “NWSE Area Coordinators love working with youth, believe in the value of international understanding and friendship, enjoy reaching out to others, and are often well connected in their communities.”

Maybe it was the coronavirus or maybe I’m getting soft in my old age or maybe I’m thinking more about my legacy, but working with kids and being around kids has really made me happy lately. Just this morning, my good friend Maddie, a first grader, ran up to me and gave me a hug. Kids around her started saying, “Hi Super Mario!” and I said hi back and joked around with them and made them laugh, and their laughter is just so infectious. Yesterday a young kindergartener showed me a small strand of pink yarn and she said she stole it from a leprechaun. I laughed and said, “I never met a leprechaun hunter before,” and she smiled demurely before running away and rejoining her friends.

The student from Germany will be 16 years old when she flies into Montana later this year. In her application she wrote that one of the reasons why she wanted to come to America was because she wanted to get out of her comfort zone and learn new things. I can relate 100%. I’m eager to meet her and learn from her and teach her and make sure her stay in America can be as good as it can be. If I had said no to this opportunity, if I had said no to Ginger, what would that have meant for me? That I’m a coward? That I’m comfortable with complacency and mediocrity? I don’t want to live like that.

So I’m glad I said yes to this. I’m scared but also excited. Isn’t that one of the best things about life? That feeling of possibility?

As an addendum to my last post, some elementary teachers are annoyed at me because I told their students to call me Super Mario. Is it really my fault that I enjoy walking into a classroom to a chorus of little kids saying “Hi Super Mario” over and over? I don’t think so… 😂

One of the absolute best parts of my job is that I work at a school. I get to see and interact with kids of all ages, and other than reminding me of how old I’m getting, they also remind me of how much fun being alive can be.

I love walking around the playground and seeing new chalk drawings, like this one of one of our substitute teachers made during art class. I love seeing our kids express themselves in fun and imaginative ways. It reminds me not to be so stodgy and to loosen up a little.

I saw this on my walk today, and I can only deduce that someone made a hopscotch diagram using just water. The sheer imagination to come up with something like this impresses the hell out of me. I guess the lesson here is that the only limits in life are those you impose on yourself, so just go out there and play.

More chalk art. I love this one.