Sunday, December 12, 2010

Shrimp, Sauerkraut, and Me

In the intervening month between this post and my last (I set myself a simple goal--one post a week--and blow it only two months in), I've fallen in love with the North Dakota third-grader.  With streetwise smarts at the level of a Chicago kindergartener, these students are reminding me how kids can take a person to the highs and lows of self-esteem.

Last Friday, a third-grade girl asked me to stand "just for a second" in front of her.  After I stared back at her quizzically, she explained, "You're just so beautiful, Miss Robertson."  Monday's third-graders, on the other hand, picked up on a different attribute: "Miss Robertson, you smell like shrimp."  I like to think this comment was based on my super awesome Miss Frizzle-style crustacean earrings (thanks, Dani!).  I also like to remind myself that North Dakotans have most likely not even been exposed to shrimp, so it's possible this girl thought that the shrimp's scent is a sweet-smelling cross between roses, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, and California oranges.

Despite the crustacean comparisons, it is good to be back in North Dakota's schools after a week in my old Chicago haunts.  There's nothing like being greeted, too, with snow on the ground, Christmas tunes weakly sung by a gaggle of blond fourth graders in a school gym, and a fridge of canned plums, canned peas, and canned sauerkraut juice.

(Photo courtesy of Wegmans,
the best grocery store in the lower 48.)
As to that "Kraut juice"?  Not as delicious as one might think, but anything in the fight against scurvy.  Skol!


  1. yeah, I have to say Erin, I can't decide if I'm more disturbed by the Kraut Juice itself, the fact that the glass is almost empty, or the fact that despite the fact that it's almost empty you are sporting a large, and by all appearances, genuine smile.

  2. Tom--don't worry, the amount you see in the glass is the amount I drank in one sitting.

  3. The Kraut juice is not in the least bit surprising. You eat and enjoy many odd things. I learned that in only one week of knowing you. Remember eating grass dipped in chocolate? I rest my case.