As a teacher (and an ELA teacher at that), I am often frustrated by trying to teach my students how to create similes. I’ve gotten the blank look; I’ve been ignored; I’ve gotten the “I don’t understand!” wail.
Yet, Muffin, at age four seems to have similes on lock…well, pretty much.
Tonight, after Josh got called in to work this morning (If you read Monday’s Meal Plan Monday post, you know that he was off but on call Thursday and today…and he was supposed to plan and prep the meal both days. When he was called in 9-ish this morning, that didn’t happen), Muffin and I were at odds about what to do for dinner. It had been a LONG week at work. We had been worried about Daisy all week because she seems to have picked up a very bad case of fleas courtesy of the dog whose owners live in the house behind us. (And our diva princess…who really doesn’t like to acknowledge that she has a hiney…really couldn’t deal that her hiney kept itching. She spent most of the week cowering in embarrassment…under the bed.)
Basically, there was no way that I was going to perform even a miracle in the kitchen. Muffin wanted chicken nuggets…then a taco…and, as he realized that I was rapidly reaching the end of my tether, “whatever you want is fine, Mom.”
Bless my only child.
We ended up ‘on the other side of the river at the “good Kroger.” In a year or so, we are supposed to get a “good Kroger” on our side of the river, along with a Panda Express, Panera, and Hobby Lobby. I had never eaten at a Panda Express, had a real yearning for orange chicken (and there was no way I was going to risk making that and failing at it after this week), and we really needed to try it out (at the one on the other side of the river) before we got one over here. Okay. Not needed. But, it’s Friday. The weather has been rainy/sleety for two days. I was borderline whiny and unpleasant to be around.
So, I pulled into the Panda Express parking lot. Now, only my family is going to “get” this: I walked into a place redolent with what I can only call “wok smell.” The scent of ginger, green onion, and meat (and the blend of scent that combination makes) in a wok. (The joke is that I pretty much have no sense of smell anymore. But I smelled this. And, unlike most things I can smell, this was something that smelled GOOD.)
We had to wait a bit for the orange chicken. It seemed to be the favorite and they were having to cook another batch. I had to do some fast talking for Muffin to accept eating rice as a side (borderline wheedling bribery).
When we got the food, Muffin declared the chicken too spicy. Yes, this is the child that can drink salsa. But he ate the rice that he later poetically referred to as “this rice tastes as good as sunrise.”
Yup. A sort of simile. I was looking through my phone the other day, purging some grocery lists that I had typed into the notes section when I came across this gem from October 8th: “Daisy’s bowl is drier than a peanut butter and jelly.” I’m still not sure what Muffin meant by that, but I know it was in response to my reminding him that he needed to fill her bowl with water.
How do you encourage figurative language in your children?