To see what he could shake, shake, shake.

But all that he could shake, shake, shake

Was the bottom of the deep blue shake, shake, shake.

Sea, sea, sea.

A sailor went to wiggle, wiggle, wiggle,

To see what he could wiggle, wiggle, wiggle,

But all that he could wiggle, wiggle, wiggle,

Was the bottom of the deep blue wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.

Shake, shake, shake.

Sea, sea, sea.

A sailor went to jump, jump, jump,

To see what he could jump, jump, jump.

But all that he could jump, jump, jump

Was the bottom of the deep blue jump, jump, jump.

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.

Shake, shake, shake.

Sea, sea, sea.

The kids started yelling out other ideas—hop, skip, spin—and we patty-caked and patty-caked until our list of movements got so long that even Polly and I could no longer keep it straight.

After that we helped the students choose individual work. Griffin headed for our reading boat, grabbed a book and a pillow. His eyes suddenly filled with tears and his lower lip quivered. “I can’t read!” he yelled. Then he fell immediately to sleep.

Jaden threw the dice at the penny-counting game. “Come on, work with me, pennies,” he yelled.

Pandora sat down at the smell-matching game and took a sniff from the first tiny bottle. “Is that Chanel No. 5?” she asked me.

I took a sniff, too. “Smells like preschool spirit,” I said.

Pandora tilted her head and gave me a funny look.

“Never mind,” I said. “It’s lavender. Now see if you can find the other bottle that smells just like this one.”

Pandora sniffed the tiny bottles—pumpkin pie spice, vanilla, lemon, pine needles, peppermint—then held one up triumphantly. “Lavender No. 5!” she yelled.

Polly had come up with the genius idea of gluing brightly colored pompoms on the non-business ends of dry erase markers. The pompoms were instantly transformed into the most awesome erasers ever. The kids wrote their names over and over again on our whiteboard, just for the joy of erasing them and doing it all over again.

We moved on to snack and recess, and then to dismissal for the half-day students. The full-day students still didn’t look fully awake, so after lunch Polly and I went easy on them.

It was a gorgeous late-November afternoon, what we used to call an Indian summer day back before that became politically incorrect. Polly and I gave the students each a little wicker basket. We walked around the school grounds, swinging the baskets and singing “A Tisket A Tasket” at the top of our lungs.