Close Encounters of the Third-Grade Kind by Phillip Done

poured water on them.”
    “Why’d you do that?”
    “It’s hot.”
    I just stare at him.
    “Can I take them off?”
    “Ask your teacher.”
    Just then I notice a first grader crying in the corner of the field. I walk over to him.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask.
    He points to two other boys. “They won’t throw the football to me.”
    I glance over at his two friends. Neither one is holding anything. I turn back to the one who’s crying. “
What
football?” The boy’s bottom lip quivers. “Now calm down. I don’t see any ball. What ball are you talking about?”
    “It’s…” He wipes his nose with his sleeve. “It’s pretend.”
    I make a face. “Pretend?”
    “They won’t throw it to me.” He sniffs.
    I wave the two over. “You boys come here.” They look scared. Clearly, this is the first time they have ever gotten in trouble
     with a big mean third-grade teacher. “You need to share that football or I’m taking it away. Do you understand?”
    Both nod.
    “Okay now, you three shake hands.”
    They stare at me.
    “You heard me. Shake hands.”
    They all look confused.
    “Come on,” I say.
    The boys look at each other then turn back to me. Together they stick their hands up in the air like they’re being held up
     and start shaking.

THE INTERCOM
    A classroom is like a home. Both have cupboards and closets full of clutter. Both have pets and cages with water bottles that
     need to be filled up. Both have stashes of candy. Come to think of it, there isn’t much of a difference between the two. I
     guess this is why teachers and parents say the same things to their kids: “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” “Do you think
     that jacket is going to pick itself up?” “Let me see your homework.” “I’m not the cleaning lady.” “What do you mean you’re
     hungry. You just ate an hour ago!”
    But one thing classrooms have that you will not find in most homes is the intercom. The intercom system has been around in
     schools for a long time. Before telephones were installed in classrooms, the intercom was the main way with which the office
     communicated with the teachers. The secretary or principal would stand in front of a big metal machine, press a button, and
     call students to the office for dentist appointments, doctor checkups, and visits to the orthodontist so that the rubber bands
     on their new braces could be changed.
    Today the intercom is used mainly to announce special assemblies, hearing tests, and other all-school news. Just this week
     Bob, our principal, came on the intercom to talk to the whole school. It was a special day on campus. The Dairy Council was
     bringing Ellie the cow to our assembly. “Teachers,” he said, “please excuse the interruption.” All the kids stopped working
     and looked up at the speaker on the wall. Bob continued. “Ellie will be late. She is stuck in traffic.”
    Once when I was in third grade, the secretary forgot to flick off the switch after making an all-school announcement. More
     than five hundred children listened to the office staff chattering away until one honest teacher called in and told her. We
     all heard the secretary scream. Then the intercom went dead.
    This year in the middle of November, my class visited our kindergarten buddies. Each class at my school is teamed up with
     another. We get together once a month and share an activity. My buddy teacher is Gail. I like being Gail’s buddy. She cooks
     a lot with her students, and I get to taste-test. But I have to be careful. Last year I snatched what I thought was a cookie
     off a paper plate and just about gagged. They had just made doggy biscuits.
    So there we all were in Gail’s classroom getting ready for our big Thanksgiving Feast. Forty kids sat around the room at different
     stations making vests out of brown paper bags, decorating oatmeal box drums, and tracing turkeys around small hands on brown
     construction paper.
    In one corner of the room, a volunteer mom