Hardest Presentation Ever

Today I was invited to Lilia's Kindergarten to make a presentation about Minnesota.

It started great. "Oh, good, you're here," the head teacher greeted me as I arrived. "Unfortunately, the newspaper couldn't do the story." Huh? Newspaper story? Thank God the editor passed on that one . . .

I was ushered into the middle of a circle of 30 3-to-6 year olds squirming on their chairs. Lilia was there, looking at me with a half-frown. From all sides I was immediately bombarded with commmentary: "I've been in the United States!" "I'm Lilia's best friend!" "I live in Biberach!" "I'm five years old!" "I have to go to the toilet!"

I had brought some pictures and began to show them, raising my voice to a shout to be heard over the background noise. I started to pass the pictures around. Soon a fight broke out when one little boy refused to pass them further. Lilia headed out to the bathroom two or three times. Johanna, who had been napping, then woke up and added her howl to the chaos. I plowed on, talking about lakes and cold and mosquitoes and the Ojibwe and Paul Bunyan . . . "Really!" shrieked the head teacher over the roar. "We have a giant in Schwaben too. What's yours called again? Peel Moynan?"

At the end I served some wild rice, lumberjack-style. The kids weren't too taken. "I think the dark color puts them off," whispered the head teacher loudly. One intrepid little boy came back for thirds, though. As I got ready to go, Lilia threw a fit, and with the tears pouring down her face, announced that she had to come home with me NOW. I firmly refused and made a dash for the door.

Interviewing for jobs is gonna feel like a cakewalk in comparison . . . .