Sure...it may SOUND like a good idea...

I'm not a huge advocate for test prep but I do systematically expose my sweet cherubs to every possible genre they might encounter on their exam...fiction, non-fiction, folk tale, tall tale, gotcha tail (literary joke...hee hee), science fiction, historical fiction, poetry, prose...this exposure benefits them as discerning scholars AND equips them for success on the test.

But...OH NO! I shot out of bed last week at two in the morning, panic-stricken. I hadn't really covered directional reading. "No self-respecting, able-bodied American reads directions anyway," my husband mumbled before stuffing his head underneath his pillow, leaving me to wallow in my misery.

One glance at the calendar showed me that there was no way that I was going to cram such a gruelingly boring lesson into their heads right before state testing. I dug through my copies of old tests and victoriously pulled out the perfect one:  "Instructions on How to Make a Rocket Balloon." YES! I would have my students partner-read and complete the questions before earning the privilege of making their own rocket balloons! This was going to be great! The kids would LOVE this!

I scrambled to the store for supplies (Brad barely complains now). I needed balloons but there were people in that aisle so Sydney and I headed to the toy section until it cleared. And there...in the dollar section were:  Rocket balloons! A miracle! "God must have placed those people in the other aisle to lead us to these," I squealed, certain that the Lord also knew the importance of my students receiving a lesson on directional reading with a fun twist. This was providential.

It wasn't until I got to my classroom that I actually read the packaging. "Watch 'Em Fly! Hear 'Em Scream!" Okay...maybe it wasn't the Lord directing my steps.

Oh no!

Oh yes.

I had purchased screaming balloons.

As you might imagine, the lesson was a rousing success. With screaming balloons in their future, my students diligently read and re-read their passages, highlighting, discussing, and inferring their ways to the needed 100 score to earn their rocket balloon supplies. I had tied a line of string across the length of one end of our classroom so the rockets could ascend the student-made thread trail across the room. Fortunately, the balloons were challenging to blow up so, for the first ten minutes, the only sound was the gasping of breath while I worried that some students might pass out from hyperventilating. Balloons blown up, attachments in place, I climbed a table to catch perspective pictures of the rockets reaching great heights while my students worried that I would fall and break a bone. I'm not sure which sound was greater: The screaming of balloon rockets or the happy screaming of school children. And that, my friends, is a glimpse of test prep in Room 24. (Insert Mic drop here).