April flash tale #1 - "Whisk"

Little Ducklings Preschool

Five years at Little Ducklings. My class of eight kids come and go, as have some of my fellow teachers. I stick around because I love the kids. Steve says that I’m really just a big kid myself, and it’s true, I like to play games, I like to use my imagination. Isn’t it a pity, how so many people stop doing either when they grow up?

Today we’re celebrating Easter, and I’ve put together eight little baskets for them to take home. Just little cheap things inside; chalk, Lego, a lollipop duck, chocolate bunny. I love to see the excitement and anticipation on all my kids’ faces on days like this, but sure, I have my favorites. 

Sasha for example, who even at three years old takes such delight in her outfits, evidenced today by her yellow Easter dress and matching hairbow. And Dustin, the little boy with the soulful expression, who might just have a little crush on me. I think of him getting older and then looking back. Will he talk about his preschool teacher, will he wax lyrical the gifts – finger-paintings, crafts, that he wanted to give to Miss Jane instead of taking home to show his parents?

This morning we’re dying eggs. Hey, it’s been five years, and I know from experience that it’s not worth using the ready-made kits they sell in stores. My kids little hands just aren’t ready for holding the wire holders, and spoons are even worse. So instead, this year I bought whisks.

All the kids wear their aprons, and I give them each a hardboiled egg in a whisk. Like a good teacher, I’ve already prepared in advance, putting plastic cups in a cookie tray, and then filling with a combination of warm water and vinegar.

Yes, you might be thinking this is more than we need. Why not let the kids just dunk their eggs in the cookie tray? Sure, you could do that. And sure, you could clean up eight messes, too.

When the kids are watching, when they know something magical is just around the corner, I can command their attention. I add different food colorings with a dropper to create the color they want. Green and pink for Sasha, while Dustin calls for blue, just blue, and my heart melts a little. When he’s all grown up, will he still have such curly hair? Will he still have such soulful eyes?

The kids dunk, coloring their eggs, and they look like eight little scientists, peering and comparing. They are cuteness itself, and I know in six short weeks it will be the end of the school year, and half my class will graduate, leaving for Kindergarten, and my heart will break, as it always does. Maybe a little more this year because Dustin is one of the graduates.

At snack time, I let the kids dig into their Easter baskets, and this feels extra special, because I wouldn’t normally let them have candy in the morning. Lego and chalk can’t compete with chocolate bunnies, and yet I’m surprised when Dustin approaches with a different treat to offer.

“Bean?” he asks, lifting up his hands to show a collection of jellybeans in his cupped palms.

I smile. “Those weren’t in your Easter basket,” I reply. “Did you bring them from home, Dustin?”

The little boy shakes his curls. “The bunny left them, Miss Jane.”

I could say no, and I’m not a fan of eating random foods that small children bring me. But it’s Dustin, and he has that look on his face, heart on his sleeve, and I’m not going to be the one to break it.

“Thank you,” I say politely, and I pluck a pink bean from his hand.

He nods his approval. “Like cotton candy,” he says.

“Cool.” I put it in my mouth and chew, because I can tell that Dustin won’t be satisfied until I declare the candy delicious.

It is like cotton candy. Just one jellybean, and somehow, it’s more than that, it’s a sensation, and

her pretty yellow dress reminds me of sunshine! I tell her that and she says I’m adorable.

Today we’re celebrating Easter, and that means candy and bunnies and eggs. First thing, Miss Sasha tells us that she’s hidden bunnies around the classroom and it’s our job to find them, so that the bunnies will let us have our baskets. She tells us to search in pairs, and so I choose Dustin. I always choose Dustin if I can because he’s my favorite, even though when Daddy asks me if Dustin’s my boyfriend, I shake my head no.

But I think when we’re old, like twenty or something, then Dustin and I will get married. Daddy says it’s a long, long time before I’m old enough to get married, but really, I don’t think it’ll be that long. After all, Dustin and I are graduating preschool in just a few weeks, and then we start Kindergarten together.

Once we find all the bunnies, Miss Sasha says it’s time to dye eggs. That means making them all kinds of different colors. She says she’s got her own special way of doing it, and she brings out cookie trays and a tub of whipping cream. I love whipping cream, but Miss Sasha says it’s not for eating today, and she says we could even use shaving cream instead which is like soap and would taste gross.

We watch as she spoons the cream into the cookie tray wells and then we get to choose what food coloring she adds to the cream. We all take turns to swirl the coloring with a toothpick, and then Miss Sasha puts eggs in the center of the cookie tray well and we spin the eggs with our hands until the whole egg is covered with swirly colors.

It’s messy, but Miss Sasha says that’s okay, we’re allowed to be messy sometimes. She takes everyone’s eggs and sets them aside to dry. And then I hold hands with Dustin, his blue hand and my pink and yellow one, and then I think of the colors swirling together, and maybe that’s what getting married is like, and I can’t wait until we’re grown-ups.

THE END

"A preschool teacher shows her class how to paint eggs, and soon the teacher is looking like the little one" - Joseph