Last week, 5 year olds at my school learned about barn animals. This involved singing “Old MacDonald” and imitating said animals complete with barnyard sounds. I tore into this task with gusto – I love my 5 year olds and will take any chance I can to play with them, regardless of how silly I look. For their part, they love it. They learn the language for the day and despite a little sweat on my brow, we are all happy.
Bob taught 5 year olds this week as well and told Sean that he wasn’t sure how to imitate a horse. Sean asked me later what I had done when teaching my kids.
“That’s easy!” I cried. “A horse does this!” I got down on my knees, neighed and reared up on my legs with my hands held close to my chest like hooves. “See?”I said. “Easy!”
“Brilliant!” said Sean. “What about a cow?”
I clomped on my hands and knees, pretended to chew grass and let out a throaty moo.
I stalked across the room on my hands and knees, pausing to lick my paw and groom my face.
“Sweet Jesus. Chicken?”
I channeled Mick Jagger circa 1967 and said, “buck buck buck-a buck AAAA!”
“Oh my God,” said Sean.
“What?” I challenged. “The kids love it! Plus, it’s fun! You mean to say that you wouldn’t have gotten into it? What would you have done for a horse?”
“I,” said Sean, “Would have been a dignified horse.”