Good kids are hard to find, so keep looking!

Sorry about not posting lately, but after I got back from the Holy Land (a.k.a. Disneyland) things got pretty busy. By the way, photos and stories will be uploaded soon, I promise!

However I had to post this. Last week the library I work at had a class visit. For those of you who do not speak libraryese, what this means is that a classroom of children made a visit to the library.

This time it was a class of second grade kids, so ages about 7 or so. This is an important fact, okay? The kids had a blast, we did a mini-storytime for them, showed them all around the library, and answered any questions that they might have.

One young kid, we will call him Tyler (and, Asian Eddie, it is _not_ that Tyler either, this is a younger version) was asking questions of a coworker of mine, who was already wrangling three other children. So I stepped in. He wanted books on how to speak German, and I thought he was a neat kid... not many want to learn another language at 7. I showed him where the books to learn German were, as well as books on tape and cd, so that he could listen to the sounds of the words. He was really enthusiastic. Then he asked for books about Europe. I showed him the section, and that is when he opened up.

He was so happy, and said that he was German, and wanted to see pictures of where his family came from. Out of all the kids who were running around throwing books around, I got the one kid who really wanted to learn. It was awesome! So I said that I am Irish. His smile got bigger and said that his grandmother was Irish, but the rest of his family was German.

When I asked if he was going to go to Germany sometime for a vacation, he somberly replied, "When I am an adult." This kid was acting so politely, and so mature, I really was impressed by him, and how he was being raised by his family.

But you know what? NEVER EVER make assumptions!!! I forgot that bit of wisdom!

Because next the kid, about 7 remember... told me that if the "coloreds" kept taking over America, he was going to move to Europe.

I was so freaking shocked by the little Nazi, I went in back, and told a co-worker. She took a look outside the door and said the kid had been snotty to her.

On his way out, he stopped, and tanked me for all the help I had given him, and said that if I wanted to know, his name was Tyler. Another coworker of mine, who had heard the tale by that time, said "I guess he can tell you his name, since you are white."

He's seven... and already has attitudes like that. Just shoot the parents.