Much to the annoyance of his 4 and 5 year old peers, one of my little boys is suddenly convinced that he is nineteen years old. "My daddy told me that I'm nineteen!"
Later in the day I checked on him in the bathroom as it seemed he had been in there longer than usual. "Do you need help or are you okay?"
He called back, "Everybody needs help sometimes! Mommies and daddies even need help sometimes! Even though I'm nineteen, I need some help!"
This boy's class is known throughout the school for requiring a heaping serving of control, endless patience and a certain tone of voice. My brother and I ended up in a conversation about it that ended along these lines:
David: "Some people never develop that teacher voice. You have the voice, the one that says, 'Do it my way, or you're f*cked!'"
Me: "Yeah...it really does help when you truly believe that your word is the law."
David: "'Your word is the law.' Oh, that's a nicer way to put it."