BRILLIANT! COLLABORATION! I coated Billy’s palms and he dragged them over the back of his forearms and neck. Very kind of him to not mar my original work.

“Ribbit!”

“Paint the frog!”

Annie was next. “I want yellow. Ribbit.” She pulled her bangs back and closed her eyes. “Careful. Don’t mess up my hair.”

I shrugged “Why? It’s not like you’re going to have to wash it yourself.”

Annie opened her eyes and let her hair down. “Good point.” I started with the hair. Water soluble or not, it’d be a pain to get out. Not my pain, though.

“Here,” a very green and gloppy Billy offered. “Let me help.” He reached for another paintbrush. I slapped his hand away with mine. For a split second he looked like he wanted to deck me.

“Mrs. Beouf said that it’s MY job to paint frogs.” I said. “We wouldn’t want to be breaking any rules, would we?”

Billy nodded appreciatively. “Ribbit. Ribbit. No we wouldn’t, would we?”

“What do you mean chocolate? Did he specifically say chocolate?”

Ivy went so far as to get down on all fours and leap over to the easel. “Rrrriiiiiibit.” She wanted in on the fun too.

I started scanning for the best color that would clash with her dress. Bright red, perhaps. Turning around revealed strange, uncomfortable looks. My three newest cohorts were giving Ivy a quiet but distinct case of stink eye and that gaze was starting to drift towards me.

“Ribbit! Rrribbit!” Ivy hopped some more. “Paint the frog!”

I put the paint back. “Sorry Ivy…

“You what?!” Beouf practically shrieked. Her tone was no longer so casual.

Meanwhile… “Your Mommy will be back from her potty break any second. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” I gambled on technically following rules and expectations in one breath and claimed Ivy might get in trouble with the next.

I’m going to be honest. Looking back on that, it was not my proudest moment. In that moment though, I needed allies and friends, not playmates.

“Oh, honey,” Beouf started to turn around. “You and I have got to talk on the phone later tonight. I think that…” She saw our gaggle of painted Littles gathered around my easel. “Gotta-go-I’ll-call-you-back!”

She hung up the phone. Her body posture was somewhere between panicked and storming.

Chaz spoke first. “Ribbit!”

Billy and Annie followed suit. “Ribbit! Ribbit!”

“Paint the frog! Paaaaaint the frog!” Ivy whined.

The door opened. Perfect timing. Zoge, and the therapists came back with the other half of the class. “Good job today Tommy,” Sosa said. “Now can I please see Aaaaaa-?”

They froze, taking in the situation. Chaz started crawling and hopping as best as he could on four feet. Annie and Billy puffed their cheeks out so that their faces had maximum surface area. Ivy, bless her heart, started hopping around too, trying to be part of it all.

“What’s going on here?” Zoge asked, genuinely startled. My classmates were much less worried and much more vocal.

A cacophony of discordant giggles bubbled into eruption. In less than five minutes I’d managed to subvert and disrupt an entire organized play routine and add clean up to the mix.

“Oh no!” Shauna howled with delight. “And I just got changed half an hour ago!”

Jesse was collapsed on the ground, clutching his sides. “Me too! Don’t care! Ribbit ribbit!”

“I wanna be a frog!”

“Me too!”

“RIBBIT!”

Zoge stepped in front of the newly arrived ones. She didn’t yell and I could barely hear her. I couldn’t see her face, either. She only said one word. “Children…” The therapists formed a perimeter. Mass Teacher Glare. Realizing they were cut off from us and surrounded, the ones who had missed the opening act clammed up.

Seeing Mrs. Beouf adopt a similar pose, Chaz, Billy, and Annie took similarly submissive postures. Ivy toddled over and clung to her Mommy’s skirt.

No matter. It was time for the finale.

I gazed up at the god of this classroom. “I was trying to be good, Mrs. B.” I lied. “You told me to paint the frog!” I gestured around to my croaking comrades. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Beouf puffed air out. “I…I…” She shook her head, torn somewhere between anger and exasperation. “You. I… Hm.”

I put on my best confused Little face. “Did I do something wrong, ma’am? Do I hafta go to time out in Miss Tracy’s room?” I’d concede that space as Tracy’s. Never my replacement’s.

“Clark, you kn-“

“You just looked so happy that you called my Mommy when I painted one frog and…I just…I mean…I wanted you to…” I looked at the classroom, feigning confusion and being overwhelmed as if finding out for the first time that I had done bad.

I had gone from beyond exhausted straight to the top of my game. I could have gotten an award for this performance.

“Clark.”

“Yeah Mrs. B.?” I looked away, pretending to be fearful and repentant.

She blustered. Grunted. “Mrs. Zoge?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Take Clark and the others. Let’s do Circle Time again and maybe another story before lunch.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Beouf grabbed one of the ever-present packets of wipes from around her room. “I’ll clean the others up.”

“I’ll help!” I offered.

The teacher’s chin jutted out. “No thank you, Clark. I think you’ve helped enough for now…”

Victory.

On the way to the sitting circle, the therapists passed me coolly and took some wipes to help speed things up. It must be nice to have coworkers to pitch in. I had new kinds of coworkers, I supposed. They’d definitely pitched in.

“That was very…creative, Clark,” Zoge said. “Don’t do it again, though.”

“Yes ma’am,” I promised. That wasn’t a lie, either. I wouldn’t mess with the paint ever again.

Why be terrible the same way when I could find new and creative ways every day to push their buttons?