Pretty in Pink

This afternoon, in my class of brand new 2nd graders, we were struggling to write a summary on the most boring story ever written about sports and athletes. All of a sudden, Joanne says, "Ra-churl. Look John." Andrew says in a confused way, "Oh John. John is wearing leep-uh-stick?"

I look at John, who is an undeniably happy, delightful child.
He has a bright pink bashful grin stretched over his snaggle-teeth. He has a few errant marks shooting off his upper lip. It looks like he has been madly drinking some strong Kool-Aid. I struggle to maintain any form of composure.

Andrew, still concerned that John may be wearing women's cosmetics, says, "John? You have lee-puh-stick?"
John's grin get's bigger as he nods his head and produces his beauty secret: Barbie chapstick. He says, "Su-tuh-raw-belly. Smells goooood."
I say, "Give me some of that John." He proudly shares his balm and I slather my lips with the hot pink stuff. It did smell good. We then put our lips up to our noses and smelled strawberries.

As we were smelling our lips, it occured to me that John doesn't have a sister, and I highly doubt his mother uses Barbie products. I double checked and he confirmed that he indeed only has a younger brother, whom I also teach. As it turns out, his younger brother liked the scent of his chapstick so much that he cut it off and ate it.

As I snuck sideways glances at John during class, I had difficulty supressing my laugh as I thought of the irony of the situation. Here we were talking about all these famous, overblown athletes, and as though to balance the testosterone levels, John quietly pulls out his pink Barbie chapstick to smooth over his lips and restore normalacy to his life.