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         27 
           
        School 
          Days and Preschool Days, Too: 
          A treasury of anecdotes culled from my work 
          and play as a preschool worker and an elementary school after- school 
          activities supervisor   
          ______  
          
         ON DINING WITH CHILDREN 
          (continued)  
          
          
           
          
        2. The Animal Game  
              The 
          "animal game" has been a lunchtime favorite for as long as I've 
          been teaching. Once we've opened our food containersall except 
          for "treats", which are for laterone of the children will usually 
          say, "Let's play the animal game!" (Sometimes it sounds more like "ammal 
          game", but I get the idea.)  
                "OK," I say, "Think of an animal."  
                "No, you think of one!" the child 
          will say, and I oblige her. "I'm thinking of a big animal that lives 
          in the water and goes..." At this point I make a mighty crashing 
          sound with my two arms, one coming down and the other coming up, meeting 
          like a pair of enormous jaws. 
                "A alligator!" says an excited 
          child. "How did you know?" I ask in mock surprise, as I've started 
          with the same animal every day all year.  
                "I guessed it!" the gleeful child replies. 
           
                "Wonderful!" I say. "Now you think 
          of an animal!"  
                "A duck!" says the child.  
                That's the problem with the animal game. 
          It requires some sophisticated cognitive skills that are way beyond 
          a two year-old's grasp. I might even say, "No, you think of an animal 
          and don't tell us what it is! Tell us something about the animal, and 
          then we'll try to guess what it is. OK, go ahead."  
                "A lion," says the child.  
                Some of the older children, of course, 
          have mastered the game, but since our class this year consists of eighteen 
          two year-olds, five 3 year-olds, and a 4 year-old, there are almost 
          always several younger boys and girls at my table.  
              Last year a boy named Mel would do the same, 
          adorable routine every day when it was his turn at the animal game. 
          He'd seem to look deeply into his mind and then in a dreamy way he'd 
          say, very slowly, "I'm thinkin' of a big fishy with two eyes and 
          a long tail and stripes."  
                You could see the picture form in his 
          mind as he spoke. He was so cute I found his description irresistable 
          and would sometimes ask him for "command performances".  
                Though it's perfectly understandable, 
          I'm a little ashamed to say my desire to get Mel to display his cuteness 
          got the best of me. I'd see him and immediately say, "Did you think 
          of a big fishy yet today?" I think once or twice I may even have co-opted 
          his fishy description and used it when it was my turn at lunch. 
                All this culminated in his saying at 
          our table one day, "Mr. Max, when I go home today, then 
          I'm gonna think of a big fishy with two eyes and a long tail and stripes!" 
          I'd made him self-conscious and destroyed the spontaneity of his adorable 
          response. I never heard it again.  
             This same Mel also had a 
          delightful game regarding his treat, which of course children occasionally 
          try to devour before touching anything so mundane as a sandwich. As 
          we talked and ate, I'd see him sneakily reaching out toward his cookies 
          in their waiting place near the center of the table, moving them a little 
          at a time closer to a central position near him. I'd intercept him in 
          one of these movements. "What are you do-ing, Mel?" I'd mock 
          an exaggerated "caught in the act" voice.  
                "I just want to smell it!" his 
          high-pitched voice would pipe up.. 
                "One smell," I'd say.  
                A little later I'd see him moving it 
          again.  
                "I just want…"  
                "No," I'd say, interrupting. "After you 
          finish your lunch."  
                 
                But the interaction didn't end there. 
          Mel knew there was a cat-and-mouse game going on and he enjoyed it as 
          much as I did. We made this repartee into a little script that we'd 
          frequently re-play.. 
                Then one day, when I'd finished lunch, 
          I announced to the children at the table, "I'm going to have my treat 
          now."  
                "No!" Mel answered in a loud, sharp voice 
          from across the table. 
                Amazingly, this 3 year-old was cleverly 
          reversing our roles. 
                "But I just want to…"  
                "No!" he interrupted. And on and on. 
         
             Lately in the "animal game", 
          we have a girl who says a bunny makes a kind of "Ehh!" sound, a loud, 
          sharp, bazooka-like noise. When it's her turn she says, "I'm thinking 
          of an animal that goes "Ehh!". 
                "A bunny!" everyone shouts together, 
          and we all have a good laugh.  
         ***** 
          continued   back    contents   title 
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