"Oh," Sam blinked and looked his visitor over. "Um . . . no, I don't think anyone mentioned that."

He barely saved another container of paint from overturning. There was a pattern forming where the kids were concerned, which only could mean the carpet was destined to be stained before the classes ended later this month. He'd fight valiantly, but he was fated to fail.

"Uh, give me a minute. We were just about to start cleaning up, actually," he gave Jack one of his trademark smiles. Cute they were, or so he'd been told. Except he wasn't cute.

He turned back to the kids, raising his voices so they would all listen. "Hey, guys. Class is almost over, it's time to start cleaning up. Put your paintings on the table over there to dry," he pointed, pointing was the easiest way to explain things whether you where speaking to a child or an adult. Can't really misunderstand pointing. "Then wash up at the sink."

Boy was he glad this room had a sink in it. He wasn't quite sure why. It had never been a kitchen, was too large to be a bathroom. But he was thankful all the same. Otherwise he'd be taking kids single-file to the bathroom. That was too much like elementary school. He didn't want to be reduced to elementary school.

He turned to Jack again. "Hi, name's Samuel Greene, but I guess you already know that."

He offered his hand, before realizing belatedly it was smeared with red paint. He quickly wiped it off on his shirt. Blue and red streaks, he was vaguely patriotic.

"Ah ha, sorry about that. Anyway, if you can wait a few minutes while I wipe things up then we can talk a bit."