Lining up the children in this morning’s kindergarten class just before dismissal on a sunny day, I had my sunglasses on top of my head.
“Why do you have your glasses there?” asked one boy.
We’re still indoors, I told him. I don’t need them right now. As soon as we get outside, I’ll flip the sunglasses down over my eyes.
“Let’s see how they look on your face.”
“Cool,” he said.
I try to look cool, I told him, but it usually doesn’t work.
“Why—because you’re old?”
Probably, but …
“How old are you?”
Before I could lie, the estimates started:
“A hundred?” was one guess.
“Eighty?” was another.
I gave them both detention.