I spend half of my week amongst Koreans aged 6 to 12 and some of them are total meatheads. After an hour of disobedient 6th graders yelling at me and ignoring my timely evil eyes I forget why I'm in Korea and long for my days of being a Personal Assistant. And then one of my kids runs up and says or does something that makes me happy again. This is a pictorial representation of that moment.
|Making Mother's Day cards with my 3rd graders.|
|Sujin wrote love on my hand.|
|Some of my third graders, eating apple-flavoured popsicles.|