Teaching D the Homemaker Way

One of the kids' beloved Aunties is a kindergarten teacher.  She taught a unit on the letter D.  She wrote a book—Dexter--and they did illustrations and made up characters and all kinds of stuff.  They did a whole unit, multiple days, on the letter D. 

That knocked me out.  Sure, in high school you have to read novels and poetry and learn about metaphor and . . . other things in writing (pencils?), but you lose that focus on the details. Which starts with D.

In kindergarten, they fully explore D.  They look at D from every angle.  Inside and out.  They crawl into D’s skin and walk around in D’s shoes.  They really find out what makes D tick.

Thinking about that made me think of this:

A gruff, old-school, newsroom editor-type in front of a bunch of kids:

Editor: (forcefully) I want you to give me the dirt on D, you hear?  What does D do in his spare time?   Does D drink?  If so, is it Dos Equis or Drambuie or what?  I want to know every D detail.

You, whaddya got?

Little Boy: (reading from note pad) D is married to a nice girl named Deloris, but he steps out daily for dalliances with other dames. 

Editor: D is for dog, eh?  Good work, Daniels. (turns)What about you?

Little boy 2: (Nervously shuffles papers) D is for Dinosaur.

Editor:  D is for Dinosaur?  No shit?  Wow.  Does it come after C, too, by any chance?  Jesus Christ!  How about this? D is for Dunce because you gave me Diddly! 

Listen.  I want to know everything about D.  Where he eats.  Where he sleeps.  I want you up D’s derriere with a goddamn flashlight!  Does D have dingleberries?  I wanna know!

(Laughter)

Alright alright.  Desist.

(Leans forward, hands on desk)

D is out there. Right now.  Doing things.  Dollars to donuts D is dishing out dead presidents and deciding dogma for the Department of Defense as we speak.

C’mon you douche-bags, get out there and get me D!

Deliriously,

Homemaker Man


Update:

I almost forgot:

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