I was riding the BART train to work this afternoon when a class of 2nd graders boarded and filled the seats around me. They were chaperoned by their teacher and seven volunteer mothers who were brave enough to take 15 kids on a field trip using public transportation.
The kids were chatty and excited, but otherwise pretty well behaved. I tried listening to my iPod, but I couldn't help but overhear a conversation between a girl and one of the parent chaperones.
A mother asked one of the little girls next to her how old she was. The girl replied that she was eight years old. The girl, suddenly fascinated with the topic of age, then turned around and starting questioning the teacher, who was standing next to her.
Girl: How old are you?
Teacher: 46.
Girl: Wow. That's old.
Teacher: I'll tell you what. You give me a call when you're 46 and tell me how old you feel then.
Girl: That's ok. My dad's older. He's 54.
Teacher: I see.
Girl: Yeah. He's 54, but he looks young.
Teacher: That's nice.
Girl: His wife is even younger!
Teacher (mumbling sarcastically to herself): That'll do it!
The kids were chatty and excited, but otherwise pretty well behaved. I tried listening to my iPod, but I couldn't help but overhear a conversation between a girl and one of the parent chaperones.
A mother asked one of the little girls next to her how old she was. The girl replied that she was eight years old. The girl, suddenly fascinated with the topic of age, then turned around and starting questioning the teacher, who was standing next to her.
Girl: How old are you?
Teacher: 46.
Girl: Wow. That's old.
Teacher: I'll tell you what. You give me a call when you're 46 and tell me how old you feel then.
Girl: That's ok. My dad's older. He's 54.
Teacher: I see.
Girl: Yeah. He's 54, but he looks young.
Teacher: That's nice.
Girl: His wife is even younger!
Teacher (mumbling sarcastically to herself): That'll do it!