Moses??

I’m beginning to think that my first graders have been crying out to God to deliver them from “Egypt.”  That would make me Pharaoh, I guess.  If Charleton Heston shows up, I’m going to reconsider my vocation.  I wonder all of this because we have a serious infestation of frogs going on in this ancient edifice we lovingly call “school.”  Of biblical plague proportions, really.  I have captured and released many.  I’ve had them drop down from the ceiling right in front of me.  A class can only keep so many pet frogs.  The last one didn’t get enough hydration, I think.  Ever seen a bloated frog?  It’s not pretty.

What’s next?  Locusts??

Today my sweaty angels were changing into their gym shoes in the coatroom, when I heard the words shouted to me that every teacher will no doubt hear at some point in their career.  A six-year-old voice demanded to know, “Why is there a dead frog in my shoe?”  Well, THAT got my attention.  He came around the corner from the coatroom holding a very dead frog in his hand.  “It’s flat,” he stated.  Yes, I could see that.  Makes me think poor Kermit went out to recess with the owner of the shoe, as well.  My Discoverer of Dead Critters was unfazed.  Our playground is a virtual Reptile Garden.  The kids are always chasing snakes, salamanders, and of course, frogs.  For a reptile phobic such as myself, it’s like teaching in the middle of a Fear Factor episode.  I can handle the occasional frog, but we do occasionally find a snake in the building, and for that, I need extended therapy.  And possibly a Valium.

Apparently this was a shoe-themed day.

I am walking down the hall with my class when I realized my sandals are not feeling quite right.  Let’s back up.  Why am I wearing sandals on the fourth day of October?  Because I can, that’s why.  Here on the northern prairie we are having Indian Summer like you  cannot believe.  I mean epic!  Temperatures have hovered in the seventies and even eighties.  I am LUVIN’ it!!  I will wear all the summer gear I can for as long as I can. The tan is long gone.  I do not care.

So as I’m walking down the hall, I realize I blew out a shoe.  One side of my right sandal is ripped.  Instant sadness.  I love these shoes.  You know how you have certain jeans or shoes that you would wear for the rest of your life, if you could?  Yeah, you know….

What to do?  It’s not like I carry spare shoes around with me.  Hmmmmm…..

When I got back to class, I searched my supplies and found just the thing.  Colorful packing tape with a geometric design and neon colors on it.  Oh yeah.  Come to me, baby.  I wrapped the Sure-Cure around the toes of both shoes and studied my work.  Perfect.  It looked awesome (no, really…).  It even matched my jean skirt and shirt.  Well, this day would not be a total bust after all.  I gloated until I got up to walk, that is.  You may or may not be aware that packing tape makes a crinkly sound.  Did you know that?  I sounded like a walking candy wrapper all day.  Wow, did we get the giggles over that!  I would step over to the homework drawer and see the faces of my largely male student body trying to suppress giggles.  Little grimy hands held over grins.  Mrs. Dahl and her Postal Package Shoes were a major distraction all day.

During reading intervention group, the Little Princess sitting next to me kept staring at my cool and groovy shoes.  I told her the story and asked if she liked them.  She nodded and smiled broadly.  “When I get big,” she asked, “Can I have them?” 

Oh my love, you may have them sooner than that.  Tomorrow they are yours.

And just so you know, if the water fountain starts running red, I’m outta’ here…

I know, right?