Students' Siblings

1. I recently taught a piano lesson in which I spent the entire half-hour very aware of my student's little brother who was sitting behind me, in a big, overstuffed, comfy chair, his little four-year-old toes dangling far from the floor, his peanut-butter-smothered fingers quietly holding a pair of binoculars aimed directly at me. He didn't make a peep. He just sat there, quietly kicking his short little legs, sniffling from a recent cold, and held those binoculars steady. The. Whole. Time.

Talk about teaching under scrutiny.

2. Yesterday, as I was leaving a student's house, her little sister ran to the door with urgent information for me. I was just closing the door, and the chatty, tiny kid planted herself in front of the entryway so I couldn't quite follow through with the shutting of the door, on account of the tiny girl standing in the way. "Teacher Liz," she said, her eyes big. "Yesterday, I went poop! On the potty!"

Her intellectually way-over-my-head parents (with post-name credentials that span the entire length of the alphabet) stood behind her, chuckling at their cute potty-trained daughter, and I said the only thing I could think of to say: "What a great... location for that activity!"

I turned around and walked away, thinking, "Liz, what did you just say?"