Summer Camp and After School Counselor
These have been my favorite crappy part-time jobs of my little life so far. Kids are awesome and I live vicariously through them. I've also learned that I'm just as much of a sore sport in 4 square as my 10-year-old opponents.

Anyway:

During my first year as a camp counselor, I had an entertaining kid named TJ. He was 8-years-old, had a really high-pitched squeak of a voice, and was probably afflicted with Asperger's, come to think of it. I have many a story about him, but this one always comes to mind first:

One day TJ asked me what my favorite animal was, to which I answered "Llama". TJ was duly enthusiastic about this admission and proceeded to tell me about a "Llama farm" that he owned. He said this farm had 10,000 llamas and, if I wanted, I could buy some from him.

Little TJ sure knew how to strike a bargain because he said he would sell me 2 llamas for a dollar each, or 100 llamas for just a penny.

I told him I was not looking to buy in bulk, so perhaps 2 llamas would suffice.

Some interesting facts that TJ taught me about our llama friends:

1) Llama's make milk which can be turned into cheese.
2) Llama cheese tastes like cake.
3) Llama cheese, which tastes like cake, has a lot of protein.

Looking back, I have no doubt that TJ had Asperger's.



Some other stories include, but are not limited to:

The time a kid pooped his pants out in the woods. He was probably also a little mentally off, since the shit fell out of his shorts and he did nothing more than give a little shake and continue to walk nonchalantly.

The time we took a field trip to the ocean and there was an abundance of weird water bugs in the tide pools. The kids collected them to the point where they had puddles completely filled with the little red bugs. They dubbed the creatures "Ching Ching Chongs" - which may or may not be racist.

The time a girl fell in the woods. I heard the screams, saw her come up to me crying and asked her what happened. I didn't see blood. She continued to cry in hysterics. Then...I saw her arm and the elbow was at a completely wrong angle, sticking out. The walk back to the main building was nerve wracking. I couldn't pick her up, because I didn't want to accidentally touch the bad arm and make it worse. All I could do was guide her very slowly around the roots and rocks.


I currently work at an after school program. I don't have too many stories, aside from two which circulate around a girl who lacks common sense, yet compensates in utter endearing-ness.

The kids are supposed to address us with "Mr. and Miss" - so I'm Miss Julia. Three weeks ago, the girl in question sparks up a brilliant conversation:

"Miss Julia, what's your first name?"
- "...Julia..."
"Oooooooh...I thought that was your last name!"
- "What did you think Mr. Chris and Miss Stephanie's last names were?"
"...Chris...and Stephanie?"

Another time, we took a field trip to go swimming at a pool in a health club. As we were getting ready to leave, the girl in question comes up in tears. I go all mushy and start asking her what was wrong. It takes her a minute, but she finally sighs and whispers that her "peepee" hurts.

I go awkward and say "Your what?!" She repeats. I question again: "Wait...one more time?" This cycle continues a few more times - because I a) did not know how to advise a 9-year-old girl about an apparently painful "peepee" and b) did not want to give advice about her vag when she's really saying that her knee hurts. Sometimes I'm hard of hearing, and I really think that could have been a logical mistake. Thus I made this girl repeat her woe like 5 times.

Then I told her to go to the bathroom and "rinse off", because it was probably from the chlorine. She does, comes back, and claims that it still stings - even when she bends down!
Good god.
(juliajuliajulia, Sun 20 Apr 2008, 23:50, 1 reply)

If the kid had a poo in his pants, gave a little shake, and walked off....
he may have been a b3tan.

Just saying...
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Mon 21 Apr 2008, 5:27, closed)