Never Trust a Smiling Kindergartner . . .

You would think after all these years of being involved in schools, that I would have learned . . .

I love to visit the various classrooms in our school throughout the day. Most of the time, my appearances are simple drop-in to see how things are going. At other times, my visits are easily disguised as therapy sessions for myself as I escape whatever paperwork, upset parent, or difficult decision I may soon have to make. There's nothing that tops seeing young children participating and enjoying the learning process. Some of my best classroom visits have been when I am invited to read to a class, help with an art project, or even tag along on a field trip.

So it was with no unusual expectations on my part when I was recently asked to visit Ms. Clark's kindergarten class to help them with their latest science project. The children had been studying the sensations of taste - sweet, sour, bitter, and salty - and had been sampling a bit of each. If you think you know where this is going, you are ahead of where I was as I walked into the room.

You see, all of the signs of a potential ambush were there - and I missed them. There was the serious pretense of a science lesson - what could be more fun than hands-on science with kindergartners? There was also the alleged sincerity of Ms. Clark's invitation - "the children will love to have you stop by!" Finally, there was the excitement of the children themselves as I entered the room. Actually, the term "excitement" in this case is a bit of an understatement - they were actually beside themselves with barely suppressed glee and giddiness. I should have suspected something when several of them covered their mouths to keep from laughing as I sat down at a desk. Though there were alarm bells ringing everywhere in my brain, I rashly assumed they were simply having a good time and were glad to have me stop by. Little did I know how glad they really were . . .

Upon my seating, their mad scientist leader - otherwise known as Ms. Clark - explained their project and began the process of having me sample a taste from each of the four categories. As I recall now through the pain of my memory of the "incident", things started out rather nicely with the taste of a sour gummy worm. This was soon followed by the taste of a salty potato chip. Having experienced these two very intense taste sensations, I was delighted to see the next offering of a rather large Hershey chocolate square being presented to me. Once again, enraptured by my own anticipation of sweet chocolate wiping away the sour and salty tastes of its predecessor, I missed the most obvious warning signs of all - virtually all of the kindergartners literally guffawing as I raised the chocolate to my mouth.

To quote and paraphrase some of my favorite lines from Ernest Thayer's "Casey at the Bat":

     Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
     The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
     And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout:
     But there is no joy at Global School - Mr. Graves ate baking chocolate . . . .

Actually, as you can imagine, there was great joy in Global School - at least in the kindergarten classroom. As I tried my best to avoid contorting my face in absolute agony over the most bitter tasting experience of my life, the children finally let loose an equal amount of energy with their laughter. It was hard to see through the veil of tears cascading down my face - I was bound and determined to swallow the darn thing - but I will always swear there were a few students literally rolling on the ground with laughter.

If there are lessons to be learned from this, I think I would have to start with my own vow to be more cautious in accepting random classroom invitations in the future. I'll still go of course, but I may demand a thorough search of the premises, as well as some kind of facial recognition software to help identify a set-up as early as possible. I've also added baking chocolate to my list of items left over on the seventh day after God created the earth. Its now right there at the top of the list with beets and brussell sprouts . . .

All personal trauma aside, the kindergartners had a great time. Though it was obviously at my expense, we now have a great bonding experience that will never go away. Nary a day goes by without the same request from a smiling kindergartner: "want a piece of chocolate, Mr. Graves?" I have to admit I enjoy the question, if not the memory . . .

Last but not least, if there is a personal upside to this otherwise traumatic experience, it is that the entire post-Halloween candy eating experience this year was easier for me to get through. After all, how can I ever trust chocolate again . . .