I am fully aware

that I am not as young as I once was.  But usually, I ignore this fact and kind of have a little fun at my colleagues' expenses (my teammates are all older than me).  In fact in a team meeting, I was talking about a great phonics book I found to use with my phonics intervention friends.  It was Copyrighted 1978 and I said, "This is probably something ReallyGreatPrincipal used when she was in school." because she is just a little older than me.  At lunch one day, the Creative Genius across the hall was talking about her 35th class reunion.  I asked, "Do you know what I was doing in 1975?  Being born."  Well, as they say, "Turn about is fair play," because today, my smartmouthed bottom was handed to me.

We were enjoying (by enjoying, I mean inhaling) our lunches when Creative Genius stopped and introduced us to the college girl doing her initial observations for Foundations of Education in her room.  We all said, "Hello and I'm sorry this is your chosen career path."  I felt that she was staring a little at me (which she was).  Then she asked, "Did you ever teach at Little Town School?"  Immediately, I went flying through my mind files and was coming up blank.  I answered, "Yes, that was my first teaching job.  Were you one of my students and I just can't place your face?"  She totally dropped the "old" bomb on me when she answered, "No, I was a lot younger.  You had my big brother."  The whole lounge erupted in laughter (I think Creative Genius said something like, "FINALLY!") while my face turned eighteen shades of red (including but not limited to fuchsia and rose). 

So, the silver lining in all of this is that even though it was 12 years ago, I haven't aged so much that she didn't recognize me at all. At least that's what I'm going to tell myself.

A dead bird on the ground

is worth a story to tell.  Today at recess (it was my duty day and it was glorious out, yay!) a few of my friends came running up to me with panic in their eyes.  I couldn't make out what they were shouting at first, but there was a lot of hysteria and pointing going on.  I asked, "Who's hurt?" as I scanned the playground for a fallen friend.  Finally, the spokeswoman for the group said, "There's a dead bird on the playground and I think someone touched it!"  I think maybe I have a problem because I was relieved that it was only a dead bird (sorry animal lovers everywhere).  I made my way over to the scene where indeed, there was a dead bird.  Yuck-o.  I shooed the lookey-loos away after ascertaining that no one had touched it (can't get too close to any non-living creature if you're not sure how it met its demise).  Only one friend stayed and asked me so sweetly to "Please kick it over to the tall grass."  That seemed like as good of a plan as any because I certainly wasn't planning on picking it up with my hands.  So, I spent my recess kicking a dead bird.

At writing time, one of my friends who is a reluctant writer chose to write about the incident.  This student hasn't written very much lately.  I was so very proud of him.  So, I guess if I have to kick a bird to get the job done...I will.

I wish

if took your child to the doctor and he/she said, "If this doesn't work in about two days, then come back and see me." and you had to, you only had to pay one copay. Because that would have saved our family $20 today.

Last week, I took the kindergartner to the doctor for a cough that has been going on for a while. The doctor suggested allergy medicine. It was not allergies (I know this because the medicine did not make a difference). So flash forward to today. I stayed home with her because now she had a rash on her belly and a low grade temperature. We got in to see our doctor (last time it was the on-call). Our doctor took a look at her and ordered the strep swab. My poor child came back positive and was prescribed amoxicillian and a different cough medicine (because the runny nose/cough are probably viral and the tri-fecta of Vicks/Honey Elixir and Triaminic isn't working). The doctor also said we could release the cat from the garage (where she had been quarantined, just in case she was the culprit in "the case of the mysterious allergies").

So after a lunch of McDonald's (not my choice, but hey if you've had a throat swab, then you get to pick the drive-thru) and the first dose of antibiotics things seem to be looking up.