At school, there’s a tray of multicolored beads on the table, and a roll of slippery plastic cord. Students can create their own works, whatever they want…necklaces, bracelets, rings. A group of three 1st grade girls is making bead rings as presents for the drama teacher (did not make this up, I swear).
They give their creations to me for tying…all these super short lengths of the slippery cord. I would need some needlenose pliers to get that sucker tight.
So I tell the girls that they have to give me longer lengths of cord to tie, I can’t tie these short little ones without some fancy knot-tying voodoo, which I don’t possess.
The girls keep passing me these tiny little rings with one or two beads on short lengths of cord. I tell the girls, no….give me LONG pieces of cord, then I can grip it to tie it, and we can cut off the excess when we’re done.Now the girls are giving me lengths of cord that are like, ONE INCH longer than before, everything is just so tiny. They are haggling over particular beads, discussing patterns, etc. One girl is bossing the rest around, but the other girls seem to appreciate the direction she provides.
My son Adrian comes over to the table. “Yeah! NECKLACES! I’m going to make you a nice one, Mama! What color do you like?”
He takes a long, long, LONG-ass piece of cord, cuts it with scissors (the girls gasp) and starts packing on beads (57 in all)……stringing, stringing….and done.
“Here you go, Mama! A beautiful necklace! Tie it! Do you like it?”
I say I like it and put it on. Adrian hugs me and moves on to the next activity center.