* Get vaccinated for Rabies

So I was teaching math to my grade sixes the other day when my colleague Sarah came to my door and beckoned me over.

Sarah teaches in the classroom across the hall and we've been team teaching together for a few years so you can imagine the seamless duet we've mastered of being able to interact while still keeping the flow of a lesson intact.  It would be like watching something happening on stage and the mechanics off stage all at the same time. 

While delivering some fabulously engaging information on fractions I glided over to find out what was up,  maintaining the attention of my audience the entire time without drawing attention to the discourse about to happen in the wings. 

Sarah

 whispering, teeth shut.

There's a squirrel in your classroom.

Princess Awesome

simultaneously delivering lesson, and speaking out the side of mouth

A what? 

Sarah

still whispering

A squirrel. Over there beside your bookshelf

Princess Me

balking dramatically, loudly, lesson stopped, and turning slowly with hands - a- sweeping to stage opposite.  Kids gape in amazement.

A Squirrel?!!!!! Surely I,  Miss. Munroe, of all the teachers in the school would notice a squirrel - 

Student A 

stands and points 

Sqwurr       ellllllll!!!!!!!

Students break in to maheim, standing up shouting

Can we keep it? Can it be our class pet? Ms. Munroe - please, please,please?

Again Awesome Me

bracing my audience

Everybody sit down and remain calm.

We've got to get this squirrel safely out of here. 

At this point my mind was racing wildly about what to do about this squirrel and my mouth was plotting with Sarah as we rushed to the other side of the room. Really an out of body experience. It was imperative we got there first, that is -  before any of the kidlets could get up and decide to take charge.  Meanwhile the precious baby squirrel was crawling up my bookcase to for a better view of the stage.  

Sarah and I decided we would herd the squirrel along the wall towards the door and let it run into the courtyard from there.  Like a team of nipping collies we managed to get that little red tail half way to the gates when Nathan (of course Nathan) got up from his desk for a closer look.  Our little fuzz bucket did and about face and scurried into the nearest bookshelf.  

Princess Patience

mustering it all, turning to Nathan

Nathan.  You've got to sit down and stay there so we as a class can save this squirrel.  This is your part in the rescue. 

As I turned around to get back to the mission I could hear Nathan's track pants crinkle as he lifted his seat from his chair and leaned forward cirque de soleil style over his desk for a parascopic view. 

Princess not so Patient

Turning sharply

Nathan! Sit Down! 

I faced Sarah, sweating, wiping my brow, eyes scanning the resources before me.  "We've got to come up with another plan".  My eyes landed on my yellow star waste basket.  It was perfect.  It had star cut outs, so the squirrel could get air to breath and it was cheerful.  A perfect little squirrel transport.  "Here's the next plan.  I'll hold the basket, you coax the squirrel in and then plug the top with the pillow from my reading center and then we'll run out together and then release the squirrel." "Perfect." I couldn't believe she agreed with this plan.

So there we were,  like Lucy and Ethel, me with the basket and her with the pillow, just like we'd planned, rounded up this little squirrel and then in a synchronized trot made our way towards the door. 

All of the sudden, little squirrel pops his head out of one of the star cut outs, looks left, then right and jumps right into the middle of the crowd of kids. 

Again chaos breaks loose.

Kids

standing up, waving arms above heads

Squirrel! Squirrel!

And then the unthinkable and most probable thing happens. My world turns to slow motion.  One of my students turns and points at the quietest ESL straight -off -the -boat kid in my class and yells in slow motion voice " Misssss Mun rowwwwww . . The Sqor -elll rannn uppp Esmundddd'ssss pannnnttsss!" 

Miss. Munroe. The Squirrel ran up Esmund's pants.  What just happened?  Sure enough, there was Esmund,  desperately looking at me, white of his eyes showing,  chin tilted forward, body crouched grabbing the crotch of his pants. 

 Princess Remain Calm but Panic

Nobody move! 

Kids stunned into obedience, nodding with immediate submission

Esmund you are the chosen one.  The squirrel wants you to be its' hero. I'm going to count to three.  We're going to clear a path and you are going to run into the courtyard.

**** Because what am I going to do - ask a 12 year old to pull down his pants and let the squirrel out in front of all his peers?  I think not. *****

Think you can do that? 

Esmund nodds shaking his head up and down and I know what he really wants is to be shaking it side to side

Okay - Sylvie. Carey.  Jalex. Franco. Move your desks.  Clear a path to the door for Esmund.  Everyone, lets count together. 1... 2...

I look at Esmund like I'm about to verbally push him off a cliff

3!!!!!!

And off he went. Shuffuly- galloping his way in a hobble out the door, across the hall and out into the middle of courtyard with me close on his tail.  Once we got out there he stopped and shuffly swivelled to me, still hanging onto that squirrel in his pants for dear life. His eyes pleading Now what?. 

Princess I Can't Believe This is Actually Happening

You've gotta just let go and do a little dance.

I demonstrate.  

Esmund takes a deep breath,  releases his grip and shakes his hips like a dashboard hula doll.  The squirrel runs up his pants, through his t-shirt and jumps out the neck hole,  gazelling his way through the courtyard on his way to sweet freedom.  

Princess I'm So Gonna Get Sued For This

Did he bite you? 

Esmund shakes his head no. 

Scratch? 

Again a no shake.

Okay, tonight you're going to go home and tell your mom what happened and have a good bath. Got it?

We start walking back towards the classroom, me in the lead this time and Esmund shuffling behind and I try to fill in the silent space between with a what- can- you- possibly- say- in- this- situation,  nervous pep talk.  "Wow Esmund, you really saved the day for that squirrel. You were so brave. I just can't believe that that squirrel knew you were the only one who could get him to safety. You really demonstrated caring and.." - And then Esmund once again came to the rescue and ended my trivial babbling hip - hip - hooray by saying the only three words I ever heard him say ever.  They are the three words I would ever want every learner to say who ever passes through my doors.  

Esmund

That was fun.  

Note to self: Learn to speak ITALIAN!!!!!

Today I was walking into class and one of my students Talia ran up to me and stopped in front of me. Toe to toe. Eye to eye.  (Well, more like eye to shoulder.)

She was intently looking into my eyes for some sort of salvation.  With all the urgency and volume the daughter of an Italian and Iranian could project, she blew the foghorn and made her plea for attention.  Her presence was made loud and clear.

"Talia," I consoled wincing, and taking advantage of the teachable moment continued: "I'm right here. Is there another way you can ask for my attention?" (Expecting, of course, that she'd drop her energy level a few decibels.)

Without missing a beat Talia backed up 5 paces and, with the exact same amplitude and enthusiasm as before, continued with her story.

I guess I'm the one who got the lesson in that teachable moment today: 1/ Italian is a volume, not a language.  2/ Watch out for the hand gestures.  I was lucky she backed up.

Note: Job Interview - 2:30, Don't be late!

Tuesday Jan 31st. 2:30pm.
Job Interview: Newberry,Jr High

So I have a bad habit of packing too many things into one day, which often makes me late.  This is not the image I wanted to project on this day.This day I had to make sure I was on time and ready to go! This was the door into a classroom, a new chapter in my teaching career, my chance at a full time contract and to get out of the subbing world. Little did I know about image I was going to end up projecting later on that afternoon. 

Of course I made a special effort to dress up for the interview. I was looking FINE (but professional) in my ocean grey blue gypsy skirt, high heeled tan boots, and creamy colored cowl neck sweater.  That sweater was so beautiful with 3/4 sleeves and rhine stoned detailing around the bottom of the sleeves and collar. I love that sweater. I made sure to tie my long hair up so I wouldn't reveal any nervousness I might feel during the interview if I felt tempted by fiddling with it, or hide behind it. Fashionable yet professional, look good - think good. Yep - I was looking good.

I arrived at the school's main office and they directed me down to the office of my my new potential principle.  At that moment in my life he was the one who held the key to unlocking the door to my future. I had my game face on and I was ready to charm my way into the heart of this school. 

 Bob reminded me of Santa Clause.  He was jolly and not for lack of a tummy. When he shook my hand he chuckled. I had an immediate inclination to call him "Uncle Bob" and felt quite connected to the idea that I had already had him convinced I was a good fit in the family of this school.  

My first impression of the VP was quite different.  She came across as very professional and matter of fact woman, completely opposite to Bob, very professional, an unstoppable, powerful bitch. In the back pocket of my brain I marveled at her majesty. I wanted to be just like her. 

There was an obvious tension between the two. As the interview went along I could tell he loved me, I wasn't sure about her. I was glad I wore a skirt, this guy was going to hire me on my the naivety in my enthusiasm and my good looks alone. I showed that I was zealous and willing to give my youth, energy and life up for this job and he knew I was prime meat for slave labor. But I knew if I got the job, I'd have to work to get onto the VP's good side. Chances are if he loved me, she was not going to . . . initially. 

At this point in the story, I was pretty sure I gave the impression that I wanted to, however as I was on my way out a transformation was happening in stop motion.  It was like the clock had struck midnight and it wasn't even noon yet! I was Cinderella on the way home from the ball and it wasn't my glass slipper I was leaving behind.  Here's what happened;

On my way out I made sure I stopped by the office and canoodled with the office staff. As I was leaving, flying confidently high as I walked down the long hallway, clickety clacking in my teacher boots, gloating my way towards the exit with my positive self talk, I heard the office assistant chasing after me and  calling out to me:

"Miss Munroe, ..."
I turned around,
". . .I think you are loosing your stockings."


I looked down and my confidence quickly deflated along with the crinkled mass of hosery I was dragging behind me. How long had I been towing along my pantyhose like this? I could just imagine myself during the interview, like a plane with an advertisement banner waiving it's message loud and clear to the crowds below. Suddenly selling all my professional competencies to my potential supervisors seemed like a waste of time. I could just picture them nodding and smiling, him enthusiastically and in agreement, and her forcedly with teeth grinding, as I went through my glorified list of teaching accomplishments. What message did they really get about me? No wonder the VP didn't like me, a floozy advertising what I would do to get this job with my undergarments. No wonder he liked me, with my showing potential skills of dropping my silks for my boss. What did the secretary think I was doing during my interview to secure my job at the school?

Of course why would I be surprised this would happen to me? These types of things are regular occurrences in my life. Life lesson learned: Pull up my socks.  The phrase will forever take on a whole new meaning for me from now on. Remind me to write that on a sticky note.


After my split second second of mortification and internal downward spiral of dialogue, I thanked the well-meaning secretary, shared a laugh and a wink with her, told her I'd see her next week then pulled up my stalkings discretely, tossed my head up towards the sunlight and carried on my way.