A day as a classroom monitor
‘Excuse me; can I go to the toilet?’ A third-grader asked me. I nodded my head and he left the classroom. I was watching over the boys’ class of 3 C, as to the request of one of my teachers. I had already done this sort of thing few times before, so it was nothing new to me. Usually, I’d drag one of my friends along, but this time it was just me. This was fun actually; all I had to do was stand there and watch the kids, interfere if there was any problem, occasionally raise my voice and tell them to sit down and lower the volume, threaten to call the teacher if they still wouldn’t settle down. Of course, childhood memories never leave us either. When you look around and see small kids crying for the littlest of things, or fighting with someone else because one guy called the other a fool and that was one of the biggest, meanest words that the child has ever heard, you’ll finally understand how annoying you might have been at their age. I can still remember, when, a