I teach high school now, but when I taught middle school, many people hearing it for the first time would widen their eyes and say, “Wow. You must be a saint.”

I hated that. Not because it was rude — because it was wrong! I am nowhere near a saint, and middle-schoolers are the icing of the cupcake that is school — the very best and most delicious part. Overflowing with wacky ideas, irrepressible, and often surprisingly uninhibited, they touch my heart with their turns of phrase and always make me laugh. Best of all, they throw themselves into projects, like Dasha did on this thank-you note for my Skype visit to her school about Nice and Mean:

There are sixteen of these cute little doors, all with parts of a message behind them!

Holy cabooses!  I can’t imagine how much work went into that. And it’s just like the 1991 Egoiste commercial*, but without the scary screaming women and with the phrase, “Signed, your admiring readers.” I enjoy my high-schoolers, but they would never reveal themselves enough to say anything like that, even in jest.

How about this one, from Emma? Her little book with the words “Video Nightmare” and “Black Book” showcase the official documents of Nice and Mean’s main characters, Marina and Sachi.

All those stripey exclamation points — how could someone not love middle-schoolers?

Now, the piece de resistance, from Kyra:

I should really laminate this.

Man alive! That’s my cover, recreated! As you can see, it’s no Fault in Our Stars cover (in case you have been living under a rock, that book, by John Green, has three colors and some clouds.) The Nice and Mean cover features lots of lines and squiggles, and she captures them all perfectly. Who would have the focus and talent to apply to that? A middle-schooler, that’s who.

I’m so glad that Laurie Morrison, teacher, writer and awesome blogger, invited me to Skype with her class, and that she was thoughtful enough to shepherd her students through the thank-you note process.  It reminded me of everything I love about the age I write for.

You’re still wondering about the Egoiste commercial, aren’t you? Does this jog your memory?

My friend and I spent an entire weekend jumping out of the laundry-room door at my mom, inspired this commercial. I’m sure she’s so grateful to Jean-Paul Goude.  Click the link to re-live it in its glory:  “Egoiste! Egoiste!” C’est catchy, non?

Jumping on the bed was apparently so last-millenium. Now monkeys are doing something else entirely.

As some of you know, I have a daughter who will soon be two. We call her Mrs. McNoodle. She knows that her Mama (my partner) works at an office, and will even point out the office when we walk by it. Lately, we’ve been trying to round out the picture by telling her that Mommy (that’s me) writes stories.

One morning when I was asleep (ahh), my partner asked her, “What do you think Mommy is writing a book about?”

“Monkeys,” said Mrs. McNoodle. “Wiggle.”

So. There you have it. According to Mrs. McNoodle, I am writing about monkeys who wiggle. At the time we asked, I didn’t even know she knew the word ‘wiggle’! (Note: I do not write picture books. I pretty much always write about people. So far, not one has memorably wiggled.)

But this is no passing fancy. It’s stuck with her. Sometimes, I ask her what the monkeys should do in my book today. Recently, she said, “Haircut.”

“The monkeys should get a haircut?” I clarified.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to tell me anything else about the monkeys?”

She thought about it.  “Tall.”

“So I’m writing about tall monkeys who wiggle?”

“Yes.”

In my one of my favorite episodes of Story Corps, Scott Simon interviews his 6-year-old daughter about the process of adopting her from China. He tells her,

SIMON: We wanted to get over there immediately. So we waited and waited and waited and we finally got to China….First we went to Beijing, and we–

DAUGHTER: First Chicago, then Beijing.

SIMON: Chicago, then Beijing, you’re right…(to the listener): She’s like an editor.

Me and Scott Simon, we’re getting that editorial advice right and left. If I radically change genres, you know who to thank.