They Used to Just Want My Autograph

I must preface this by saying that I visit a LOT of schools. And I’ve been doing it for a long time.
I also used to teach kindergarten, although I only lasted two months in that position.
Between the two, I felt that I might have been in a position to say that I have seen it all and heard it all as far as kindergarten kids were concerned.
Not true, it appears.
Today, I was visiting a school and started my day with the kindergarten kids. They were delightful and charming and cute as buttons. Until I asked them if they had any questions.
I have been in this business long enough to know that asking kindergarteners for questions is a foolish proposition, destined to fail. Typically, when I ask for questions, it goes like this:

Me: Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me about writing books?
Some kid: I have a dog.
Me: That’s great. But I was…
Same kid: His name is Goober. He peed on the carpet once.
Another kid: I have a dog too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Me: I… uh… Are there any other questions?
Some other kid, jamming his finger into his mouth: Look! I have a loose tooth.
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Me: I… uh… Are there any questions. A question is something that I have to answer. Are there any questions?
The next kid: I don’t have a loose tooth because I lost it and my mom has brown hair but not really because she colors it because it’s actually gray but she doesn’t want people to know and my birthday is in winter and one time I saw a duck with one foot.
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Another kid: Me too!
Me: Thanks so much for letting me come visit your class today. I will be going now.

Then I slip out of the room and take a few deep, cleansing breaths.

I understand that this will happen and I am ready for it.

What I was not ready for today was the kindergarten girl who actually asked me a real, honest-to-goodness question.

It caught me a bit off guard.

So did the fact that her question was, “Can I have your underpants?”

 (Please note: these are NOT my actual underpants.)

If nothing else, I am a professional.

I handled the situation like any seasoned professional presenter might. I laughed until I nearly wet my pants.

I’m not sure how that might have affected her desire to have my undies.

I was still hunched over, trying not to snork up a lung when one of her classmates said, “They’re probably boxers.”

And, of course, they were but this didn't seem like information that needed to be shared with them.

I’m wondering how it would work out for me if I add “Marty’s Underpants” to my book order form that I leave at schools. I’ll have to ask some of my author friends how much they charge for their undies.