I first met "Squirrel" in May. Everything had gone well. It was a peaceful day where lessons had been delivered simply and easily. A day where the students obeyed, asked questions, and participated appropriately. The clock was slowly ticking down the minutes, only 50 minutes to go... Suddenly, cutting through the shared wall of my classroom and the adjoining bathroom, it came, "HE'S IN THE TOILET!!" Thinking a bully had, again. placed a 1st grader into the toilet, I ran from my class, tore around the corner, and into the boys restroom to find... a wet floor, and the sound of splashing.
Peering around the privacy wall, I found a kindergartner sitting in the urinal, joyfully pulling the handle. The water had wicked up his shirt midway. His shorts, socks and shoes were dripping copious amounts of water onto the floor. The look on his face slowly changed as he realized he was not alone. His exultation changed into terror as he began yelling, "Don't you tell my teacher, Don't you tell my teacher!" He then struggled out of the urinal and ran to his classroom where his kindergarten classmates were all in a circle listening to a story. Squirrel sat with a splash in the back of the group, safe at last.
Of course his teacher noticed that he was slightly wet and later after I explained what had transpired he was taught about appropriate bathroom behavior. As fate would have it, squirrel ended up in my room the following year. He turned out to be one of my best readers and was always extremely creative.