Lunch Helper

Diddles' teacher called me the other day with a funny story about her.  Diddles LOVES being the lunch helper.  She requests that job every day, apparently.  The lunch helper sets out the divided plastic trays, puts nametags on the chairs and then puts out the bowls and dishes of food, which is then served "family style".  

For several days, Miss Stacey had been prepping Diddles that she can't ALWAYS be the lunch helper. Other children need to take a turn doing that job.  So, this particular day, another child was assigned.  Diddles was given a different job to do.  She didn't complain.  She didn't yell.  She didn't cry.  However, this is what she DID do:

She slowly started walking to the coat closet.  She put on her pink coat.  She put up her hood.  She put on her mittens.  She put on her backpack.  Then she slowly, slowly, started stepping towards the door.  Diddles had had enough, and she was OUTTA there!  She never actually left (thank heavens), but she stood glumly pouting by the door, until she finally accepted the fact that she wasn't to be the lunch helper, and moved on with her day.  

Sigh.

That Diddles.  She's a spitfire, I tell you.  I was glad she didn't have a meltdown (as she probably would have done at home).  I was also glad the teachers didn't give her her way.  I went to check on her the next day during circle time.  They let her choose which job she wanted (other than lunch helper).  She chose "Teacher's Helper".  Figures.