For three weeks I have been holding forth in my classroom, breathlessly lecturing with Joycean wit and Nabokovian subtlety mixed effortlessly with a slapstick routine that recalls early Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd.
Today I got my biggest laugh ever, when I praised a student by telling him he did a "good job" on an assignment.
Seriously, belly laughs. My class had never heard anything as funny as the phrase "Good job." They repeated it over and over to each other in between red-faced hyena cackles.
Ah well. I'm gonna get one of those "1001 Ways to Tell Your Child You Love Him" posters and knock 'em dead next week.