On the second day of school I had students create alliterative name tents for themselves in a vain attempt to learn their names. Each child made his or her own silly name such as Jalapeño Jaime or Athletic Alex or whatnot, and designed it on a tri-folded sheet of manila paper. One student, a young blonde girl, walked up to me to ask me a question.
“[A+ Teacher], do you know what a Tyrannosaurus is?”
Perplexed and intrigued, I tilted my head and furled my brow.
“Do you have one?”
“Yes, I have a pet Tyrannosaurus in my backyard,” I replied jokingly, assuming she was being silly.
She shot me a doubly perplexed look.
“I’m pretty sure they’ve been extinct for a very long time,” I added frankly.
She paused, visibly confused, and said, “Uh, you know, a Tyrannosaurus. You look use it to look up words…”
Bing! Enter lightbulb over the head.
“Oh! You mean a Thesaurus. They’re over there,” I pointed to the shelf lined with little yellow thesauri.
“Great, thanks!” she replied and bounced off toward the bookshelf unaware of just how hard I had to control myself to not collapse in laughter.