the angst of someone who is understood

i'm being understood.

curiously enough, i do not like it. at all.

it is not nice being understood by a class-full of 10 year olds. to them, i wish to appear mysterious, benevolent and unpredictable. most of all, unpredictable. i seem to be losing the unpredictability. so much so, that now they have started completing my sentences. like a long-married couple.

i begin, "my dear friends...." and they complete "life is not fair."

i begin, "this is...." and they complete "RIDICULOUS!!"

i begin, "you better come with your homework done or else....." and they complete "i'll skin you alive and hang your pelts on the wall."

i barely begin, "how...." and they chorus "STUPID!!"

i try to growl, "i suggest you stop that right now or else...." and they helpfully complete "i'll assassinate you personally."

all this is most depressing. i shall have to think up some new threats. they are beginning to think i am cute. that will definitely not do. i must not lose my fangs. the fangs are essential tools of the trade.

ah well.

at least it is better than the first week, when i would ask for silence, and the class would obligingly erupt in 24 people yelling "keep quiet, stop talking, look at madam" simultaneously. now i can achieve instant silence of the pin-drop variety by just throwing them a glance with a glint in it.