Today, a kid told me that his mama tells him he 'aint nothing but a demon-child,' and she once wished he could have left home as soon as he started talking.
"You aren't a demon kid." I smiled and shot him a playful look.
I've heard that the teachers who taught him last year would've agreed with his mama because he had spent one-quarter of his year suspended for hellish antics.
"Oh, no, I aint a demon kid." He grinned. I forgive his grammar and smile because I notice that he does have a rather devilish grin.
"Sometimes, I'm just, you know, out there. Way out there. Far in the distance kinda out there."
The kids in the room believe this. I believe this, too, because the demon kid's a bit of a kindred spirit. It takes one to know one, I suppose.
"J____, you know, I'm out there too."
"Yeah, I know," he replied and shot me another devilish grin.
I chuckle. "When you're floating far out in the distance, and you see me, be sure to stop and say howdy, okay?"
"K, Ms. D."
This is why I'm here. I look him in the eye and make a pointless wish that I could be his teacher every year, just so his mama's words won't be reinforced by other teachers who haven't figured out that what they say so carelessly, too often sticks.