Username: SilhouetteStation
Name: Emelie Orlo
Gender: Female
EGGS:
Paintbrushes? Check.
Paint pots? Check.
Pre-poured paint? Check.
Aprons? Check.
Computer hidden? More like removed from the classroom entirely. Check.
Newspaper on desks? Check.
Plastic sheet spread out across every inch of floor space? Check. She'd have it up the walls if she could.
Hazmat suit? No, but it was probably a good idea.
The patience of a primary school teacher about to let her five year olds loose to decorate Easter eggs? Check.
The battle station was ready.
They knew before they came into the room, like they could smell it. Their Easter-senses must have been tingling. Eyes bright, grins plastered onto their faces, they descended upon the classroom like it was a toy store. Every teacher knew full well how behavior could spiral on relaxed days, when no actual work was planned.
But she also knew she had the advantage.
"Alright, listen up!" She called out over their excited chattering. A hush fell over the room. "You'll each be getting a chocolate egg when you leave today but only - only - if you behave. If one person breaks the rules, all of you get nothing. Understood?"
The transformation was amazing. All of a sudden they sat up straighter, looking at her intently, hanging on to every word. She nodded, satisfied.
"You'll see that each group table has a basket of eggs, paintbrushes, and pottles of paint. You are to take one egg each, and make sure you share the paint and brushes between yourselves. Okay?"
"Yes Miss Orlo!" they chorused.
"Good. Go on then, have some fun."
The chattering started up again, filling the atmosphere with an excited buzz. She watched on with a small smile. This was her fun, bringing in the eggs to watch them decorate. She wandered about the room, checking in, admiring their handiwork, even helping to paint a few. She liked to think they listened to her, respected her - every teacher liked to think that.
But of course, teachers can be wrong.
Of course battle plans can go wrong when one of the troops decide to go rogue.
She'd only gone to get a cup of tea, but by the time she returned, it was easy to see her well constricted plan was beginning to crumble.
"Hey you two, stop fighting over that brush, there's plenty to go around!"
"Natalie, you're supposed to be painting the eggs, not Mia's face!"
"Nigel Battersby get that paintbrush out of your nose right now!"
It took a lot of stern commands and chocolate related threats until she managed to get her class under control. She was relieved she'd pit protection down for the floor and desks. If not, they'd be more painted than the eggs.
But at the end of the day, when all the kids had washed up as their eggs dried, it was all worth it to see their faces. The satisfaction, the pride in showing their parents, in marvelling at each other's artistic creation.
Who knew eggs could create such magic?
(500/500)
