First Grade Lunch

I had lunch with 100 first graders last week. This is not for those who eat quietly, neatly and relish a long, leisurely lunch.

It starts with the lunch line up. I arrive at the designated time to meet Zach. He bolts out of line and gives me a hug. The children are lined up in number order (he is #4).

Here is a picture of them.
Oh wait, that is a picture of Scott graduating from the Air Force Academy. We could only dream that an elementary classroom could be so orderly.

Seven year boys and girls cannot quietly walk in a single file line. It is physically and mentally impossible. They must giggle, snort, talk, burp, screech, laugh and jump, skip, hop, twirl, walk like robots, walk backwards, walk sideways, slide, or drag their leg to the lunch room.

Zach does hold my hand in line.

Once inside the rules are posted and obvious:
1. Keep your hands and feet to yourself.
2. Walk.
3. Quiet voices.
4. Don't play with your food.

The lunch room monitors move about the room, keeping order and calmly saying, "you need to be eating." This is not a job I ever want to have. These people must live on liquid patience.

There is a stoplight at the front of the room. Red means only eating, no talking allowed. Yellow means "restaurant voice." I'm not sure there is ever a need for the light to be green. I think that would result in bedlam (n. A scene of wild uproar and confusion).

At one point the light was on red for two minutes. "Children, this is a time for you to be filling up your bellies and not talking," says the assistant principal.

Zach sits next to his best friend. Somehow he managed to eat a few bites of a "hot sandwich" (sloppy joes), corn, and banana muffin. He did eat all of his grapes, after spearing about five of them on his fork, showing them to his friends while they all laughed wildly and then eating them one by one.
I was able to finish my sandwich, pretzels, applesauce and cheese stick (I brought my lunch after enduring "cheeseburger mac" last time). It's amazing how much you can eat when you don't talk.

I was sitting in the middle of a row of boys. There was lots of activity and some inappropriate conversation. Across the table, the girls were eating quietly, using "restaurant" voices. Can I sit with them next time?

Twenty minutes later, trash is thrown away and we line up for recess. Indoor recess. Uh-oh, better make my escape now. A quick hug and "see you after school" and I'm back to the real world which seems a lot quieter, orderly and much cleaner than I remember.