“You’re going today,” my second-in-command boss tells me.

My eyes drop to my Converse shoes, permanently coated in a ring of grey wax. I tell him I’m not ready. I’m especially not ready for anyone to watch.

“Look, you just have to get it over with. The first time is the worst, and then it gets better. Okay?”

I know he means well, this 30-something man who looks like a teddy bear stuffed into a safari vest. He opens up the wooden chest at the side of our exhibit and hands me a dinosaur bone cast, chisel, brush, goggles, and a roll of toilet paper.

I take a deep breath and walk out onto out fake dinosaur quarry, hide the props behind the middle rock, and watch in fear as a line of second graders get ready to witness my first time delivering the lesson.

Real Teacher Fake Dinosaur Quarry Ravishly