You Can’t Make This Stuff Up…The Hilarity Continues

Happy Friday eve everyone!


In the spirit of #TBT, I’ve decided to post the above photo including Dance Arts Project’s very own Miss Julia. 

Remember when I promised a Part III of my “Kids are Hilarious” post? Well, it’s finally here! I’ve been trying to keep track of all the ridiculous things I hear on an almost daily basis while teaching class. They’re awfully amusing, those young people. Truth be told, there’s been a lot more physical comedy going on than anything. For example, I have one five-year-old student in particular that loves to lick the metal barres after warm up. I mean, walking with her tongue dragging along all ten feet of the barre. Ew and why?! I’ve now busted out the Clorox wipes more than I would like to admit.

Another unforgettably comedic moment happened a few months back, conveniently during one of two weeks that parents are permitted to observe class. One of my littlest students decided it would be a good idea to get, ahem, handsy with my teenage assistant. She also decided to narrate while poking her: “Boobies. Boobies. BOOBIES!” Luckily, my demonstrator has a great sense of humor, and found this about as amusing as I did.  Needless to say, the little girls’ parents were mortified.

I’ve found that the most humorous things are often totally spontaneous, and, on occasion, volunteered.

“I broke my leg two days ago, and had to get crutches, but now I’m better.” Well, okay then. We’re all glad your broken leg healed quickly enough for you to come to dance class.

“Oh, has anyone read the story of The Mermaid Dance?” I asked one day. “No, but I have contact lenses.” From the mouth of a seven-year-old.

“Miss Eva, I want to be an entomologist!” I wasn’t not sure how we got on the subject of careers, but I was impressed a six-year-old knew what an entomologist was. She then followed up with “I’m gonna study rolly-pollies!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s not all rolly-pollies out there.

I also enjoy the random observations from my students as to how difficult ballet actually is. It’s not all sugar-plumming about, you know. Or, as one student put it:

“Basically, it’s really hard to point your shoe.” That it is. That it is. I always tell them, if ballet was easy, everyone would be doing it.

Occasionally, I try to engage with them on subjects outside of dance. If we have the time, I like to chat about everything and anything. Today, I asked my students to tell me about one exciting thing they did at school. Many shared stories about their trips to the library, or their fun music classes, and then one replied, “No…nothing exciting. It’s school. My favorite subject’s recess.” Well, okay then.

They sometimes like to ask me about my life as well. These questions usually have to do with my age or personal life, “Miss Eva, are you someone’s Mom?” This was asked so earnestly from one of my little ones- she seemed so sweetly convinced that one of her classmates could have belonged to me.

“Miss Eva, do you have an Instagram? You look like the kind of person that would have an Instagram…” I’m not sure what this is supposed to mean, but I’ll take it as the pre-teen version of a compliment…?

And, lastly, one of my very favorite recent quotes comes from one of the many (yes, many!) little boys in our Monday class. He’s four, adorable, and fully aware of it. Whenever someone exits the studio, he chimes in with the age-old “See ya later, alligator!” catch-phrase. Except, one day, he couldn’t get it quite right:

“See ya later, alligator! After a while….croca-gator.” 

Have a great long weekend everyone!



What Work/Life Balance?

Hello everyone.

Today, I wanted to write about a phrase I hear all too often. I still don’t entirely know what it means, to be honest.


As an incredibly smooth segue, here, behold my sad desk lunch!

When I left my last office job, the woman who conducted my exit interview cited my primary reason for leaving as “work-life balance.” What in the hell is that supposed to mean?! I felt a little bit affronted, but it was, in some ways an accurate description. I’ll confess that a more accurate assessment would have been that I felt my soul slowly being crushed working in a cubicle at 6am every morning and that my  boss wouldn’t stop spitting his chewing tobacco in my trashcan. That would make anyone run screaming, to be quite honest.

I know that what I chose to do with my life is less than average. Some people think I’m quite nuts to place the large emphasis that I do on teaching ballet, and they’re very much entitled to their opinions. It certainly doesn’t change mine. Sure, I don’t have all of the career perks that most people do. There is no HR department for me to call, and I certainly don’t have someone handling all of my taxes, retirement, and insurance. It’s perhaps easier if you do, but I quickly found out that I could do all those things all by myself. Working independently doing something you love can give you so much more freedom, both literally and figuratively. What’s funny is when you can’t really discern between your “work life” and, well your “life-life.” What happens when what you used to do for fun suddenly becomes your job? Not only is it a shift in perspective, but how do you find a balance when you can’t seem to figure out when one ends and the other begins? People tell us that this is inherently unhealthy, that it is something that needs to be fixed, but could it also be a concept that we’re just hiding behind? As you climb the proverbial ladder of your chosen field, isn’t it natural that you take and more and more responsibilities? I look at so many of the women I know who’ve worked their way to the top, some of whom even own their own businesses. Their jobs are a huge part of their lives (not to say that they don’t have lives away from work), and I don’t see anyone throwing the “work/life balance” thing in their direction.  Quite the opposite, it’s mostly praise. Is the seemingly unattainable work/life balance simply a polite way out of an unpleasant work situation, or is there more to it? Perhaps it only exists if you want it to- like some weird career Easter Bunny? I know I certainly don’t have the answers, but I think that everyone has experienced this, in one way or another.


Just like we’ve all been this gif, at one time or another. So, dear readers, what do you think?


Until next time.


Decoding Ballet

Hello all!

 So, as many of you know, aside from teaching dance five days a week, I also work for a lovely little company in San Francisco: Smuin Ballet. This last Wednesday, SF software magnate GitHub hosted us for our first ever Decoding Ballet seminar. Seeing as how, over the last few years, my lovely city has experienced a boom of successful young people in the tech industry, I thought it was an intriguing way to develop a connection between the arts and technology.

The presentation was primarily on the process and nuances of creating dance, both classical and contemporary. I love that Smuin Ballet is so not what people typically think of as ballet. Yes, they’re a group of brilliant, classically trained technicians, but the company’s ability to adapt to a variety of styles and genres of dance is uniquely impressive. Founder, Michael Smuin, had a strong presence on Broadway, in addition to the ballet world, and it shows in many of his works that are still performed today. It’s ballet but totally accessible- entertaining as well as beautiful.

Heard enough good things about Smuin? Ok! Let’s get to my inside look of the GitHub offices!

IMG_3416 IMG_3417

Oh, hey, look! It’s a replica of the oval office. This is the very first thing you see when entering their office space. I’m still wondering if it’s a functional office, or just a great photo opportunity.


Aside from the dancers performing, we also made the GitHub employees get up and dance with us. I though it was so great that they were so willing to get up and dance with the pros!


Product placement anyone? After the presentation, we all headed over to the GitHub bar for a quick happy hour. They ordered pizza for all of us, and promised that they had cut it small because it wasn’t technically part of a “dancer’s diet.” Adorably thoughtful group, those GitHub people.


Here’s the view opposite of the bar. They pretty much have an entirely functioning bar/restaurant embedded in their office. Necessary? I think so!



We all enjoyed chatting and mixing all our happy hour cocktails ourselves! I was quite proud of this concoction: Bulleit bourbon, ginger beer, and lime juice. Yum! I’m hoping we have more of these events in the future- ballet has always been packaged as an almost elitist, hyper-dignified art form, but certainly doesn’t have to be. It’s incredibly encouraging to see all the ongoing progress, while still managing to preserve the classics. Who says tech and performing arts can’t go together? Heck, even if your only involvement is attending performances, it’s never a waste. It’s an uplifting life experience, and there’s always champagne!

That’s all for now. Have a great weekend everyone!


Back to School

Hello everyone!

I’ve survived “back to school” season, but it’s all been


Yes, that’s the only way I can describe the last few weeks.

Don’t get me wrong- I spent my entire summer missing Dance Arts. But, jumping back into teaching when September rolls around feels very much like being asleep for three months and then rolling out of bed to run a 5k. Ouch. The students never cease to amaze me, and I have a wealth of quotes from them already. I’m certain there’s more coming in the very near future.



It’s like herding little gerbils, bless them. Look at those straight lines!


Here are some of the latest gems:

“I don’t need this. I don’t need this. I DON’T NEED THIS.”– child when handing me a dirty band-aid. Great, honey. I don’t need it either.

“Ew, oh! Excuse me. I just burped.” Mid-sentence. Of course.

“I’m so tired today, because I had second grade.” Life is tough, kid. What else can I say?

“Wait! Your favorite thing isn’t lunch?!” Upon learning that the boss lady’s favorite thing is, in fact, dancing.

“He has a brother. I think his name is Colon.” I’m sure it is.

“My dad has a farmer’s tan!” 

“Can I take my leotard off? I’m hot!” No, no you are not dancing naked.

What’s your favorite pet? “Ice cream.”

“This is Miss Izzy. Did you ever meet Miss Izzy? ‘No, but I know how to do cartwheels.'”

“No, those aren’t my shoes.” Her name was on them. Of course they were her shoes.

and, my personal favorite:

“This is Miss Eva. She used to dance here when she was seven, then she went to college and got her degree in dance!” at which point a little voice said:  ME TOO! I’M FOUR!'”

Oh yeah, I remember you!


On Exhaustion

Hello all!


I’m sure everyone can commiserate with me when I say that last week was, well, one of those weeks. Despite my usually flexible schedule, I felt a psychotic obligation to cram as much as I possibly could in to each day. I had to do something. Every. Single. Minute. While scheduling as much as I could into each 16 hour period I was awake, proved to be quite productive, it left me with a distinct feeling of mind-numbing exhaustion. The kind of tired-feeling that is so pervasive you’re even too tired to sleep properly. After living in this destructive cycle for a while, I was just going through the motions. My normally perky self was relegated to simply looking for an opportunity to sit down whenever possible. After dragging myself to ballet class repeatedly, I found myself leaving early before the grand allegro (the big, traveling jumps at the very end of class),which is usually my favorite part. Ever watched a small child try to resist sleep? The staggering around, wandering aimlessly, incoherent mumbling- it was a state had become my life all of a sudden. Oh, and any kind of bad news left me on the verge of tears, regardless of where I was or who I was with. That happened too.

There have been many psychological studies done on the link between insomnia/exhaustion and creativity. Proust, Emily Bronte, Vladimir Nabokov, and many others struggled with insomnia that attributed to a few of their published works.  While I can’t claim to be even nearly as prolific, you, dear readers, have previously heard about my struggles to create new work under pressure. Miraculously enough, the days that I’m the most exhausted often turn out to be some of my more creative. Despite the fact that I’m teaching more than I’m performing as of late, there is still quite a bit of ‘performance factor’ that goes in to teaching each class. Students will mimic your energy; if you teach a class with the semblance of being “bogged down,”  it infects the whole of your work. On the other hand, there’s often this phenomenon of overcompensation that occurs, and you somehow end up teaching the best class of your life or churning out dances like it’s no big deal. This year has undoubtedly been one of the most creatively productive years of my life. Aside from this little blog situation I’ve been nurturing, I have choreographed 8 group dances, a solo, and collaborated on a duet this year- not bad, so far. I’m awfully tired, though. I’m hoping that I can make a concerted effort to relax more this week since my schedule has slowed down a bit. I’m really looking forward to spending a Monday evening in, perhaps with a glass of iced tea, a good book, and an early bedtime. It should clear all manner of ills.


Thanks for reading, everyone. I’m still astonished at how many of you do!



Five Things

Hello everyone!

I can’t believe it’s Wednesday already! I decided that, for this week’s Five Things, I would add a little theme. I know a common therapeutic exercise for when you’re feeling down is to create a simple list of the things you’re grateful for in life. For most people, it becomes quite obvious just how many things you have in life to be happy about. So you can stop crying about how some boy doesn’t like you (or whatever inane problem you have at the time) and live your life with a sense of contentment. Problems solved, ladies!


If any of you know me, even remotely or just through my blog, you already know how grateful I am for food. This afternoon, I cooked up a big bunch of chard straight from the garden to serve alongside some pasta. I love food for all the practical reasons, (sustenance, energy, etc.) but also for the fact that food is comforting, delicious, and can bring people together.


I’m so grateful to have a job doing what I love. I recently had a dream that I was a victim of some horrible accident that left me unable to dance. Morbid, I know, but I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I awoke to find that it was only a dream. Not only do I get to do what I love, but I have amazing coworkers, and I get to see these little dancers and their antics every week. Ok, now this is just a humble-brag, but whatever. It’s true. I’m living life as an artist and I’m very lucky.


I have some very gorgeous, fabulous friends (unfortunately, not all of them are pictured here). They hold me up no matter what, and they’re more like family to me, really. The only unfortunate thing is, I’m not sure I could ever be grateful enough to have them in my life. They’re a pretty fantastic bunch. Thanks for being around, ladies.


I’m grateful that I’ve gotten to travel to some obscenely beautiful and amazing places. I’ve been able to fly around the world, hike up many a dormant volcano, dance on the Great Wall of China, and spend Christmas stomping through the snow in Austria. I’m just getting started! Up next is wine tasting in Mexico, walking on the beaches of Thailand, and learning how to make bread in my grandmother’s kitchen. On her wood-burning stove in Austria, of course.


And lastly, I know it might seem silly, but I’m grateful to have a morning cup of coffee in a place that finally feels like home. Bonus points for my home having a little purple bathroom I can call my own! I moved around so much after college, it got to a point where I was afraid to settle down, to unpack my suitcase, and be content. I literally spent over a month sleeping on an air mattress because I was too frightened to go out and buy real furniture. True story. I’m so grateful that I learned to let go a little, and that things often do work out for the best.

One of my most favorite people of all time, Miss Audrey Hepburn, favored a little poem by Sam Levenson entitled “Time Tested Beauty Tips. So I leave today’s blog/exercise in being grateful with this:

” Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you’ll find one at the end of each of your arms.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.”


Celebrating 20 Years and One Month

Hello ladies and gentlemen!

This last weekend has been so hectic, today feels oddly like a Sunday. I’ve gotten all my necessary cleaning and errands done, and finally managed to have a bit of time free to write a recap of the last two days. In short, it was filled with ballet.

Saturday was ultimately a “work day.” I use captions here because, having worked in an oppressive corporate office for one year, my Saturday workday can be qualified as the least work-like day ever. I began my day teaching the little ones (as usual), and followed this with a quick run to San Francisco Dancewear in the East Bay to pick of a pair of pointe shoes that I had ordered. I then returned home to get ready for the highly anticipated Smuin Ballet 20th Anniversary Gala. 20 years! And I get to work for them! (On a sidenote: this is a ballet company I clearly admire above others, so I was beyond thrilled to be a part of their big anniversary gala). Held at the San Francisco Design Center, and boasting a beautiful set up, I arrived just in time to catch a bit of the dancers rehearsing prior to the official start time. I primarily assisted in getting the 300+ attendees registered and set up for the silent auction. It was fairly straightforward and some of the best people watching of the night, which honestly distracted me at times. For the most part, everyone was beautifully and impeccably dressed. But, I must say that blue eyeshadow and glitter eyeliner does not and should not fly after the age of 11, and is never black tie appropriate. Aside from that faux pas, I saw some gorgeous Valentino and Alexander McQueen little numbers. I admired a woman who had let her waist length hair go naturally silver, topped it with a black fascinator and delicately beaded cap-sleeve bolero. I want to be as stylish as her when I’m older.

Following the silent auction, there was a performance featuring a little bit of everything Michael Smuin, dinner was served, a live auction was held, and the night ended with the live band playing and an open dance floor. The evening meal was provided by McCalls Catering and consisted of a spring pea gazpacho and ceviche starter; braised short ribs on a bed of barley risotto; and a little flourless chocolate cake-thing topped with raspberry sorbetto and chili sauce. I tell you all this because it was delicious.  I had to dash out early to meet a friend in another part of town, but the whole evening was so lovely.


The front desk, a view of the main stage, and Allen, the boss man. He’s officially the Patron Services Manager, but more friend than anything. I considered it part of my duty to provide him hugs when it looked like he was too stressed. He in turn insisted that I drink additional glasses of wine when I was done working. A good boss.


The view from my workstation. (My apologies for the awful computer glare)


Let me preface this by saying these did not both belong to me, and yes, this is still my workstation. Alternately: this is how everyone’s desk should look at the end of a successful day at the office.


Some of the fabulous auction prizes: Shannon Hurlburt’s tap shoes, a signed Smuin Ballet sweatshirt, the now Artistic Director’s signed pointe shoes, and copious fine bottles of wine.


The radiant Erin Yarbrough and Josh Reynolds performing a pas de deux from “Frankie and Johnny;” making it look easy.  This was one of my very favorites. I’m also going to take this moment to say that she trained me. That lovely lady right there. I know her, and am a big fan.


You know you’re at a fancy event when the bathroom sinks are filled with gardenias. It smelled amazing, but I believe everyone felt guilty running the tap over these delicate things.


What I wore! In the bathroom! There never seemed an appropriate time to ask anyone to take a picture, so I snuck a quick one in. I insist on being fully independent, so you get to look at my phone in every picture that I take of myself. Sorry!

IMG_0963Illuminated tulips served as the centerpieces to every table- very unique.

This was all just one evening; my Sunday consisted of some additional celebrations, namely my mother’s birthday and our attending a San Francisco Ballet matinee together. I promise I will elaborate later on this week. I would also like to take a moment and acknowledge my 50th post on Watch Me Juggle! I blogged every single weekday of February, and with this post, I’ve finally made it to number 50. It seems like no time at all, and I fully intend on continuing to post everyday! Thank you all for reading up to this point, and thank you for all your wonderful support. I would have never thought that I could write about my life and have so many people appreciate it. It’s really a great feeling.

Lots of love, from me,


I Could Do This All Day

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I’m terribly sorry for my absence in the blog-o-sphere today. Quite honestly, this is the first time I have been home all day and had a chance to sit down. Or do anything other than dance, for that matter. As some of you might already know, my former partner and I have begun rehearsing (aka getting back in to shape) for our studio’s annual “Big Show.” This year, we’re doing a spin on Alice in Wonderland and I couldn’t be more excited. Yours truly is the white rabbit. Yes, I’m going to be this little guy:


Pink ears and all. Anyway, I spent all day in the studio today. I mean 10am- 8pm. Fours hours of which were spent being thrown about, spun around, and picked up in pointe shoes. Oh, and I squeezed myself in a leotard one size too small. Unfortunately I am now somewhat immobile, and require assistance to stand up. I have my feet wrapped in ice packs in an effort to numb them completely and feel as if someone has beaten me with a baseball bat. It’s a great feeling. Tomorrow, we start again, but perhaps in a slightly more cautious manner. But I wanted to leave you with these snapshots of the day before I trudge off to bed.




Freeds. You crush my feet, but I love you.


Hey look! There’s a bunny, and a shameless selfie!

IMG_0945Dead shoes vs. New shoes. Not a fun place to be.

Thank goodness it’s almost Friday.



Kids Continue to be Hilarious

Happy Friday everyone!

adimiceli_tutus copy

Photo courtesy of Dance Arts Project 

It’s a beautiful day out in the Bay Area today and I’ve been wanting to do a follow-up on my previous post for a while now. TGIF everyone!

 I actually have a surplus of these gems, so don’t be surprised if you happen upon a Part III and IV within the next few months. I’m going to begin with some of the more recent things that have come out of my students mouths these past weeks. I can honestly say that some of these occurred all at once, within the same class. It’s like the little ones know whatever they’re saying is infinitely amusing to the adults, so they just keep talking. There seems to have been a recent bout of illness going around the dancing school, so when inquiring about the health of another little girl in class, one randomly volunteers this  information:

“You know what?!” (This is generally the premise for something exciting, is it not?) “I threw up right in my bed last night!”

Lovely. We then checked to make sure she wasn’t feeling like throwing up on the dancefloor anytime soon. She wasn’t. Following this discussion of everyone’s general health, we somehow strayed upon the topic of babies. You know, the kind mommy and daddy go “pick up” from the hospital. The point was made that Miss Eva does not have any little brothers or sisters, but she does have a kitty-cat. A little one piped up:

“My landlord says that we can’t have any dogs or cats, we can only get more kids….”

Because of course that’s how it works. Little brother= stand in for the puppy I really wanted.

Chatting about babies with young children is always amusing. That is, of course, until one of them asks you if you’re pregnant. Irked,  I replied: “Do I look pregnant to you?” They suddenly realized that they had made a horrible mistake in asking me this question. You can’t really blame them, though. The world and everything it contains is such a hard concept to grasp.

Some of my slightly older girls seem to have recently come across the notion that there is a correct and incorrect way of referring to people of different ethnicities:

“My friend, she’s Vietnamese, but… she looks Asian”  (The latter part of this sentence was whispered, I’m assuming in fear of being politically incorrect.) I assured her that Vietnam is, in fact, a country in Asia, therefore her friend is Asian. 

Some children seem to miss this mark altogether. When asked what she was going to be for Halloween one year, a student once responded:

“I’m gonna be a Chinese girl!” 

The actual Chinese girls in the room did not find this to be a valid costume. We do not live in Missouri in the 1950s, we are in California, a state diverse enough to know that dressing up stereotypically as some of our “exotic” classmates is a little inappropriate.

We do our best to educate them. We teach them the meanings of the French words we use in ballet class, and give them corresponding historical anecdotes when possible. Our director, Michaela, once asked her youngest class as to which nice people invented ballet. The random guesses commenced: Japan, Germany, Italy, America. She then gave them what she thought was a hint: “The nice people who invented French fries.”

“OH! The nice people at McDonald’s.”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this year’s Nutcracker is now brought to you by the quarter-pounder with cheese. Why? Just why?

They are dynamic little people, nonetheless. They worry about everyone’s well-being. I had a sunburnt nose once, and, as I drew attention to it one day, my student asked me in a concerned voice:

“Miss Eva…are they going to cut off your nose?”

I assured her that this was not going to be necessary, and that you should always wear lots of sunscreen. They also have big aspirations as to who they would like to be: princesses, doctors, ballerinas. But, every once-in-a-while, a child will tell you that she wants to grow up to be a puppy. I’m not sure how this will work, but I will get back to you on this. They embrace who they are wholeheartedly. When taking roll once, I received the following request from a student:

“Miss Eva…you can call me Marshmallow. That’s my nerd name.”

I didn’t quite know what to do with this, and was pretty sure that her mother was mortified that she had chosen “a stripper nickname,” so I made her name into a hyphenate. Because, Leah-Marshmallow works so much better.

Have a great weekend everyone.



Occupational Hazards/Kids are hilarious…

Hello all!

This post is long overdue and highly requested- I’m going to preface this by saying that it will most likely be one of many.


On some days, working with kids can be exhausting. They can involve “puddles,” runny noses, and attitudes. I’m sure any parent or teacher knows this all too well. On the other hand, it can also be extremely rewarding and so much fun. 95% of the time, it is the latter.   So, I wanted to take some time and share with you some of the highlights of my teaching career. Now, this post isn’t so much about watching my students progress, or getting misty over them growing up. It’s more along the lines of documenting the amusing word vomit that comes out of them on a regular basis.

Now, I touched on the ever-flattering question I get asked frequently: “Miss Eva, are you a kid? Or a grown-up?” Their curious little minds can’t help but pry further. I was 14 when I was first asked if I had any children of my own. I had to make the offending little dancer repeat herself multiple times before I could even begin to grasp what she was asking. I have also been asked the following, usually in rapid succession:

“How OLD are you?” (As in: you’ve been dancing for 20 years? You must be friggin’ ancient.)

“Are you married?”

“Do you at least have a boyfriend??” 

A little redheaded dancer came running in to class one day and asked me: “Miss Eva! When’s the BLAY class gonna start?” Bless their little speech impediments.

This same dancer once forgot my name and chose to refer to me instead as “Ballerina-teacher.” I gladly accept this title.

As is tradition, every winter we put out our vast collection of nutcrackers for the kids to admire. Upon missing them, one dancer asked our director “Hey Miss Michaela! Wherethecrackers?” It took us 10 minutes to figure out that she was not asking for food, but inquiring as to the location of the nutcrackers.

Kids also frequently enjoy volunteering information at random. In the middle of one of my classes a little girl once blurted “My mom’s hair isn’t really blonde!” Like she had been dying to tell someone, and could no longer hold it in. They love to tell on their classmates/parents.

“Susie isn’t here because she had to go to the doctor to have her independence out.”

Appendix. Appendix. I would be frightened if her parents had her independence medically removed.

“My daddy calls me ‘Hot Dog.'” (This was in response to me asking if she had a preferred name that she goes by.)

“My mommy’s boobies are bleeding!” To be fair, mommy had just had a baby. But I believe the other children in class are now scarred for life. Because your boobies can bleed.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dancer, but I’ve gotta be honest. Lately, it’s looking more like journalist or pop-star.” They have lofty career aspirations, don’t they?

One of my favorite classics include a little boy we had years ago, who had obviously just learned the difference between boys and girls. When prompted to go into the men’s room at break-time, he shouted:


When this was affirmed, he followed this up with: “Good, because I don’t like looking at vaginas.”


To be continued.

(Happy Friday!)