As I sipped my coffee this morning, I had a flash of what I would be doing at this time of day if it was sometime during the school year. Suddenly, instead of relaxing with my book (not MY BOOK…although that would be a great read – hint, hint…but the book I am currently reading), I was sitting in my “teacher chair”, methodically counting down the time my friends had to clean up their math stuff and get their little behinds to the carpet. I could hear the furious scurrying of feet…you know that almost run that toes the line of appropriate movement in the classroom but just doesn’t seem worth the battle at 9:30? I could see friends hurriedly jamming packs of math cards into boxes, ripping the edges of the sad, tired box and with little regard to which direction the cards were facing. I could feel myself biting my tongue as friends, who truly were anxious to help and probably didn’t mean to, placed (read: threw) pattern blocks in their labeled bucket.
And then I remembered this gem…from a day when things weren’t going so smoothly.
(A warning, dear readers…I come from a family in which a really good bathroom joke is much appreciated, despite the fact that we are all now over 30 years of age. In fact, a good fart comment often receives a two snorts up from Big Mama Mimi and the rest of the crew….sorry mom, but it’s true. So if you are someone who can’t appreciate the sometimes very vulgar, always surprising, and totally hilarious things that come out of the mouths of small children, might I suggest that you, um, loosen up.) (You thought I was going to suggest they stop reading, right? Please.)
One day, earlier in my career (It makes me feel better to say that, kind of like a disclaimer, but whatever), my friends were cleaning up from math and things were not going smoothly. And that’s putting it mildly. It was one of those moments when you just watch the whole thing as if you’re floating above the classroom…very out of body and very disconcerting. I could see my hold on them crumbling, as unifix cubes were thrown, papers were carelessly shoved in desks and a fight erupted over who was going to get to collect the pattern block templates. Somehow, we managed to line up and get out the door to music in one piece, but as my line moodily walked out the door to their first stop in the hallway, I heard one of my deliciously naughty boys say to another boy (and I quote):
“Go tell your grandmother to shave her balls.”
Do I need to remind you that this all occurred before 9:00 a.m.?
So, enjoy your morning coffee, friends! It will be here before we know it!!