One of my fourth graders asked my teacher’s assistant, “How old are you, Mrs. Glass?”
“You should never ask an adult’s age,” I broke in.
“That’s okay,” Harriett said and smiled. “I’m fifty.”
“Wow, you don’t look that old,” the boy said. I was breathing a sigh of relief when another child chimed in, “Parts of her do.”
Teacher: “Colin, can you tell me which month is the shortest?”
Colin: “It’s May, Miss Johnson.”
Teacher: “No, it isn’t. The shortest month is February.”
Colin: “But, Miss Johnson, February has eight letters in it, while May has only three!”
