Boys and Girls Club

The photographer is above, and the children and their enjoyment of the autoharp are below. They fought for turns, argued for turns, and the little girl who sucks her thumb and loves to argue wasn't there. We discussed the accidental fart as well as the appropriateness of sitting and putting shoes on tables. One child farted, but I don't think it was an accident. I am not controlling them except for safety. I don't allow them to jump from table to table. They want to.

They said the kids in trouble had to sit in that area. . . .so it was ok to fart on that table. The art teacher is going to learn mosaic stained glass stepping stones from me, and give me a copy of the application to be an art teacher for the Boys and Girls Club and elsewhere. She has a degree in interior design and likes my free wild eye make up and free loud perfume I get from the mall on the days I escape from the house.

The children are told I will sing opera if they don't listen, so either they hear Puccini or Tchaiykovsky (he drank green tea) and sometimes O Sole Mio. This time they heard the Star Spangled Banner with the high A or E. I need to figure what I am singing out. I feel good because only a few ever want to leave. They are funny.