Speak softly and have a big shtick

Okay team, I need ideas. Here's the story:
My mom, who manages a daycare, hired a "chicken man" to come do a 1-hour show for her kids. The guy wore a chicken hat and brought a "wonderdog" that did easy tricks for 10-minutes and sang silly songs with a guitar. The guy walked away with $350 in fees for that. Seriously. That's all he did.

So I figure I've found my calling. I can be a kid entertainer, no problem. I know plenty of songs, don't mind dancing funny, I totally think I could do it. All I need is shtick. This "chicken man," his shtick was ...you guessed it, chicken. He wore a chicken hat, shorts with "chicken" on it and played a guitar that looked like a chicken.

Your mission: Help me find some shtick so I can earn $350 for an hours work. Person with a winning idea can be my wonderdog.

I'm not sure I can take this

My kids recently informed me that I am a dalmation. Yup, like the dog breed.

I have spots, just like the dogs...therefore, I am a dalmation.

Which just tells you a) how danged attentive the rugrats are and b) how dark the freckles have gotten in the sun while the rest of me stays sickeningly pale....like a dalmation.

*shakes head*

Detached

I feel...odd. Detached. Drifting around in some puddle or something.
Perhaps I should just start rambling before the pyschiatrist that lives in my head starts doling out sedatives.
I was so homesick, so it's nice, in a way, to be home, but now I'm suffering from a serious lack of social engagements with people my own age. I see lots of 6-8 year olds and adults, and almost nothing in between. This is my own fault, both for taking a job with kids and for going to school out-of-state. Knowing this doesn't make it any better. At least the kids earn me money. The few friends I have here that are actually here this summer...I don't know that we have much to talk about anymore. We certainly aren't chomping at the bit to hang out. And my friends from Mizzou...well, they are in Missouri, big surprise, busy with their lives and whatnot. Adam, having to suffer through my loneliness often, suggested I go live in St. Louis with my uncle; I could never do that. I wouldn't feel right, one, and two, I would still miss my family. But, friends, I miss you, and I'm sorry if I haven't talked to you enough lately.

Teenage rebellion and QE1

To respond to Mark's comment: I'm not sure I want to grow up. It's strange; maybe it's because I've never really had the stereotypical 'teenage rebellion' phase...it seemed too impractical and rather dumb. (for the record, it still does). But I don't feel ready to grow up. I'm not old enough to grow up. I want to be silly and fancy free.
On a quasi-related note, I had my first official drink the other night. (ooh, it's a good one, too). I had a glass of honey-spiced mead. Yes, Mead, the drink from the 16th century, a favorite of Queen Elizabeth. An adult friend of mine brought it from London. It tasted very sweet, like honey (surprise!) at first, but the second taste was a liquid burning all the way down. It was good, but heady. I could almost instantly feel the heat rise to my cheeks. What fun.

Read the ramble

And so I've begun my summer job, toiling all day with 40 rambunctious rapscallions. Delightful. Actually, this year shouldn't be that bad. I like my coworkers, though it seems we will, of course, have a few kids that are more than a handful. At least I trust my coworkers to try to handle it this year, unlike last year's teachers who mostly just sat on the side.
Anyway, what else is going on with me? Not much. Honestly, I'm enjoying the heat. I mean, it makes me all nasty and sweaty and stuff, but there is something about the warmth that bakes right into your skin. It's lovely. I'd forgotten I'd missed it.

At any rate, it looks like this will be a good, if odd, summer. I've come to the point where most of my friends are in Missouri, or the surrounding area, and most of my friends from here are elsewhere or preoccupied. I'm being lazy with my friendships, which is fairly unacceptable. But part of me really is satisfied to go to work during the day and just hang out at night. Is that a bad thing? In a way...I don't get to socialize with anyone other than family and 7-year-olds. Hm. I don't know.

I don't know what all that means. Thanks for taking the time to read the ramble.