Rambunctious class
Lucy has just started school. She has an assignment to collect suggestions for names for her class. Apparently there are several classes for each grade, and each needs a name.
I look at her paper. On it, her mother’s suggestion is Rambunctious class. She has to give a reason. She has written that children should play hard and make noise. Grandma’s suggestion is chick class because they are just baby chickens. Lucy’s suggestion was Love class. She didn’t give a reason, but I have since discovered that it is because that was what her class was at her last school.
“Do you have a suggestion?” my wife asks.
“They don’t expect me to give one.”
“Why not?”
“Because… Ok. Let me think.” I pause. Then suggest in korean: “Regret.” I have just been studying vocabulary.
“Why?” my wife asks, laughing.
“Write, ‘because this is when it starts.'”
She laughs again, “I don’t think they will like that.”
“I don’t think they will like ‘Rambunctious’ either.” I say.
“You aren’t Korean.”
I know. It is a phrase that doesn’t mean anything to me. Like “That’s what you think”. When we are discussing something, why would what I say not be what I think? Why would I be saying what I don’t think? Why would one expect in a discussion that I state someone else’s opinion? Let’s accept that I will express my opinion and you yours.
But this isn’t a fight. It is simply a discussion. And it isn’t even really a discussion. It’s just a conversation. And besides, we are laughing. I put commentary aside, and make another suggestion.
How about “Glass class”?
“Why?” she asks.
“ ‘Because, don’t drop them’."
I want to say “Because don’t fucking drop them.” But I can’t express this in Korean.
Eunjoo’s thinks a while and then gets its. Then suggests this also is not what they are looking for.
“Then how about ‘Star class’? Because the are shiny.”
“You mean ‘Because they sparkle.”
“Yeah.” I say. “How do you write that?”
“I’ll write it.” my wife offers.
“No. I want them to know I wrote it myself.” I say, and write it myself.