In other news, I have given up working around the three year old attention span and am now making it work for me. A bus went by the window and you would've thought it was a Macy's parade float shaped like a unicorn with Hannah Montana's face, ridden by Transformers firing pixie stick cannons the way they screamed and flocked to the glass.
"A bus!" they screamed as if every wish of mankind had been suddenly, beautifully granted. "Teacher! A
BUS!!!" Just like the ones you ride twice every day, I considered saying, but sarcasm is wasted on hysterical K3s.
"Uh-huh," I said. "Wow," I said.
"You're not even looking!" despaired one. Eternal rapturous joy had come and I wasn't even paying attention.
"Sorry," I said. "Doing this right now."
I was suddenly faced with the most belligerent of the flock, who was glaring at me.
"I can't BELIEVE you missed it," he growled. I had offended him, all his ancestors, and all future descendants. How dare I even have eyes if I was to so shamefully waste them.
"There's a picture of a cat on the wall," I said. His head whipped around like Linda Blair's.
"Where??"
"There by the calendar," I said, pointing, He forgot me, he forgot the bus, he probably forgot the rest of that day, but he did lure the herd away from the window to stare at the picture of the cat I got off Google images for Pet Week. Gotta love Google.
