Reading Group: (after getting all four of them to come to the table, with their books, and to settle down, and stop looking at each other). We read along fine enough for the first few minutes, and then . . .
". . . he was at his wits end . . . "
"What does that mean?"
Well, . . .
"Is it like the end of a story?"
"Are we at the end of the book?"
No. When he says he's at his wits end, it means . . .
"He was being stupid."
"You're being stupid."
Hey, let's focus on the book. Being at your "wits end" means feeling really frustrated and you don't know what to do . . ."
"This book is stupid."
And down the hill we all went in a matter of seconds. It was longer and faster than I've described here, and ridiculous. I gave up using words and just sat there, trying. Trying to think of the magic words that would get us all back on track. Nothing. But then . . .
"Look at her face!"
"It's all red-ed up!"
"She's at her wits end!"
"Shhhh!"
Yes, I am, and none of you want to see the end of my wits.
Let's read.
And we did. I'm counting this one as a win.
Note to self: Keep your wits about you.