The two of them walked up after the test.
“Can we go give Mr. Smith a sticker?” they asked.
These two are crazy about stickers. I’ve seen them shuffling thru sheets of them pointing and laughing. And they’ve gone to Mr. Smith before.
I confess that I don’t understand this. I’ve previously had students who had a similar love of stickers and a student teacher who gave them out to students much to the their everlasting glee. So although I don’t understand it, I recognize that’s on me.
“Yes,” I said. “Come back.”
“We will!”
Ten minutes later they came back and resumed shuffling and laughing. Then they came up, holding three sheets splayed out.
“Mr. Hasan,” they said. “Pick a sticker. Any sticker.”
I inspected the options.
“It needs to match the STOP sticker you gave me the other day,” I mumbled.
“How about this one?” one of them asked, pointing to the very one I was about to choose.
I pealed it off the sheet.
“I’ll put it on my coffee bottle all cattywampus. Like this. What do you think?”
“Very nice,” they said. “It’s got slope!”