Dear S.T., Good Luck

A quick, limerick-procrastinating post.
Here's an item from Madge's school's after-school kid's club menu:
Friday.
Ad Busters. In this workshop kids will learn to deconstruct the myths created by toy commercials and packaging.
PV: S.T.
Grades: K
As in, Kindergarten.
I'm snickering already. Sorry. Poor lady. I'm sure her intentions are wonderful.
It should say, "In this workshop kids will learn to deconstruct a teacher." Something you're never too young to learn and which will stay with you the rest of your life.
And, really, I'd love to attend just to see what she has in mind and what will happen.
Sounds like a pitch for a reality show.
"Okay, so we send this well-meaning intellectual mom into a group of Kindergartners."
"When?"
"Oh, at the end of the week, after school."
"That's rich. Any way to add sugary snacks?"
"No, we figure the kids are more vicious when they're hungry."
"Good point. Go on."
"Okay, so she brings in a lot of toy packaging and ads and flashy, crazy stuff."
"Sure."
"But she only brings the packages and pictures and then tries to convince them that it's all crap and this isn't what matters in the world."
"So it's like 'Kids Say the Darndest Things'"
"Yes, but mixed with 'Fear Factor'"
"Great!"
"Oh, and did I mention that it'll happen right after the Christmas break?"
Paroxisms of laughter.