Daisies and Butterflies

When I was a senior in high school, I was in the work program, which was cool because it meant I got to leave school at about 11:30 every day with my friends Whitney and Carla. We all had jobs at a place I will call Wood-Ridge Private School, and we got school credit for working there. Looking back, it was an absolute educational waste of time, and I should have been learning some math or at least some kind of life skill like managing bank accounts or the dangers of credit cards for college freshman or how to change a tire or something. But at the time, it was cool, because if there was one thing I hated, it was being at my high school.
We didn't have to be at work until about 3:00, so when we left school, we usually went to Carla's house for snacks and soap operas. There were always industrial sized jars of salsa at Carla's house. When Another World was over, it was time to go to work. I was the teacher in the 4 year old class, otherwise known as the Butterflies. Carla had the Daisies, who were five. I think Whitney floated between classes. She was sometimes with the really little Bluebird kids, but she was usually with me and Carla, who put our classes together at around 3:30. Most of the time we went outside to the playground, where we would sit and gossip while the kids ran all around. Once, one of the little boys went to the bathroom on the playground. This was a big no-no at Wood-Ridge. The mean lady who ran the place, let's call her Mrs. O'Flynn, promptly took him to the kitchen, showed him a giant knife, and told him "Next time you take that out on the playground, it's coming off." Mrs. O'Flynn was a horrible person. She had giant pig's feet, which she would squeeze into tiny little shoes. Her feet would swell and flow out over the sides of the shoes. She always scowled.
When it was hot or raining, we put the daisies and butterflies on the floor in front of the TV, where they would watch the same three or four Disney movies, or endless episodes of Inspector Gadget. Sometimes the kids would understandably get tired of sitting in front of the TV and so they'd start talking or wiggling. Also a no-no. Mrs. O'Flynn would fly into the room, hit her ruler on a table to get their attention, and start screaming at them to get quiet. I especially hated this, as it usually woke me up from my afternoon nap.
One time, a little boy named Albert wet his pants. Then he wet his back-up pants. Since he had no more pants, Mrs. O'Flynn put him in a chair in the middle of the playground and told him to sit there until the sun dried him.
The only time she ever smiled was when the people from welfare would come to inspect. Her smile was forced and evil and scary. We should have reported her, but we didn't really know what to do. We needed the job to graduate anyway.

I love/hated that job. Some of the kids were really great and funny. By now, they are probably all in college, or even finished with college. Anyway, be very wary of putting your kids in day-cares run by high school students and mean old ladies. And when in doubt, pack them three pairs of pants.