Non-fiction day

It was non-fiction day the other day in Natalie’s 2^nd grade class. All the kids had written non-fiction books and were to present them to visiting adults as a way of developing their presentation skills (clue 1 that things have changed since we were young, though thankfully they weren’t learning powerpoint).

Natalie was the only kid two put together two books one on cats, the other on pets, including cats. They were pretty good, truth be owned, though less verbose than some of the others, full of pretty nifty drawings and some interesting feline facts as well.

But, as always, the other kids’ books and “presentations” were equally interesting. For example, there was a little WASP boy sitting across from a little Hispanic girl. When I went up to their table and asked “who wants to tell me about their book?” He practically lept off of his chair. And then he told me all about castles, and moats, and catapults, and ramparts, and tunneling, and defenestration (well, almost), on and on in the most excruciating detail. Had he been an adult, I would have slapped him or shaken him by the shoulders. For an 8-year old, it was pretty impressive. Meanwhile the little Hispanic girl had written a book about chores, like mopping and washing dishes, which included comments like “doing chores can make you very tired.” And then there was the little at least half-Asian girl with the book about her parakeet breaking out of its cage and pooping on the windowsill (“it was green”) with exquisite drawings of Venetian blinds and parakeet (the poop was pretty good too), which she narrated with adult-like composure.