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At the children's class on Saturday morning I led the warm ups for the instructor, the deshi. They were nice and quiet and dutifully followed instructions. They know I'm "no-nonsense". They are usually very chatty and fidgety. When they were lined up they sat up straight, kept their hands to themselves and did not talk. They even waited patiently while the usual stragglers made their way to the line after each exercise.
Before class I was tying the belt of one of the little boys. He's about six years old. I noticed that there were red spots on his gi.
I asked him, "What are these spots?"
He answered shyly, "Spaghetti."
During class it was noted by the deshi that one of our eight year old students had finally gotten his pants hemmed. They had been about five inches too long for him and were always dragging on the mat even though he'd folded them up. When asked who hemmed themů "Your mother? Your father? Your granny?" He shook his head each time.
"Did you do it yourself?"
I smiled and thought, "Now that's taking the initiative."