Getting SMART.

On Tuesday mornings, I read with kids at Barnes Elementary in Beaverton. Although I have no plans to raise children of my own, I am concerned that the kids my friends are raising are dumb, and they will have to pay my Social Security someday and I can't live on what a burger-flipper makes. I have been volunteering with the SMART program (Start Making A Reader Today, natch!) for four years, and in that time I've learned a lot about snakes, sharks, dinosaurs, and what Clifford, the big red dog, is up to. I am also well-versed in Arthur the Anteater's social circle, which includes a monkey and a rabbit. Once I tried to create a re-enactment with a real rabbit, monkey, and anteater, and the results don't bear talking about. Suffice to say that they were not friends, and I think the rabbit is still in therapy.
Anyway, this Tuesday I went to the school, and I had kind of rubbed at my hair after taking my bike helmet off but had not checked it in a reflective surface, and these two girls of around eight looked up at me and smiled and one said "I like your hair-do" and I thanked them and moved on, but then I realized: around eight is when little girls can get mean. Did my hair look stupid? Were they mocking me? I spun around on my heel and watched them move on, and in another second I was on them, punching and cursing. Even if they were sincere, it's better to demonstrate dominance early. I suspect that they had poor reading skills, as well.
I guess one of the best things about volunteering is that they can't fire me.