It’s all true.
I went back to the little, private Catholic school where I teach PE today, because TEACHER MEETINGS. I don’t know about you, but any week that involves meetings pertaining to work pretty much hammers the summer nail all the way through the board. Our band of teachers is a close-knit group, so we were all glad to gather around a cafeteria table together with our coffee cups early this morning and speak a word or eight over the donuts:
“I shouldn’t… but I’m going to cut this one in half and try it, and then I’m going to cut that one in half, too, and then I’ll just lift a student’s desk over my head a couple of times when I go back to my classroom to burn the extra calories off.”
There are times when I can’t believe that Eve was tempted with an apple, because MAPLE BARS, Y’ALL.
I got my class rosters today, we read through the student handbooks together, so that everyone was on the same page on HOW SHORT CAN OUR JUNIOR HIGH KIDS’ SHORTS BE and IN CASE OF A SNOW DAY THAT CANCELS SCHOOL, WHO WILL START THE CALLING TREE TO ALERT TEACHERS?
It was all very important discussions, and then we were released to go work in our classrooms, because our principal announced, “Let’s all plan on having classrooms decorated and completely ready to receive kids by dinner time on Thursday, even though we don’t start classes until Tuesday.”
We’re a group of overachievers.
My classroom is an enormous gym, with the teachers’ lounge right off of it. Do you know what is currently happening in the teachers’ lounge? It’s getting new carpet. This means that the old carpet that was original to our building when it was built in 1905 is finally going to be ripped out, and we’re going to get something new now, which will have a little more texture to it than linoleum, seeing as how the ancient floor covering in there now has been worn down to the bare threads over the last MORE THAN ONE HUNDRED years.
So all of the tables and chairs and boxes and boxes AND BOXES of stored books and paper mache turkeys that were used in the 1930s for Thanksgiving decorations, which live in the teachers’ lounge, are now sitting in my gym, along with two full-sized popcorn poppers on wheeled carts, which make the entire school smell of buttery perfection during home basketball games.
And there’s a volleyball net in there.
And the seventy-six thousand pounds of lost and found jeans, sweatshirts, socks, water bottles, lunchboxes and ear bud sets from last year, because WHOSE JOB WAS IT TO HAUL ALL OF THAT STUFF TO THE THRIFT STORE IN MAY, BEFORE WE ALL THREW OUR HANDS INTO THE AIR AND RACED OUT THE FRONT DOOR, SCREAMING, “SUMMER!! SUMMER!!!”
I asked if I could file for an extension that goes a touch beyond the dinner hour on Thursday, and now we’re looking at having PE outside on our grassy soccer field when school starts next Tuesday.
It’s because we’re all so organized with the carpet-laying schedule and the driving of the thrift store van.
Just so long as I remember which day is Tuesday, because that, y’all, is when my gym is going to be filled with fresh faces, hoping that they get to play dodgeball every! single! day! for the next nine months.