LONG LIVE BREAKFAST

Shortly after shoveling out the two cars and the walkway in the dark after the blizzard finally stops raging, I get the automated phone call informing me that school has a ninety-minute delay the next morning.

This news doesn't really affect me since I will be leaving for work at my usual time.  My car is already clear, the driveway is shoveled, and I have to move my car anyway so my kid can get to work on time.  A crew of my colleagues and I start texting back and forth.  I am sort of participating in the text chain as I am trying to get out of my snowy clothes, get into the shower, and maybe stuff some more food into my face before attempting to get a few hours of sleep.

This is when it hits me.  The PTO is supposed to be putting on a breakfast for the teachers in the morning.  If there's a delay, does that mean breakfast is off? This thought depresses me, so I  text it out to my co-workers.  No one seems to know if the breakfast is on or off. 

In the morning I arrive at work early, exceptionally early actually since there is a delay.  I am the only non-janitorial staff at my school, though I do see one or two high school teachers entering the attached building through the far door that goes directly into their work area.  I make myself a mug of Constant Comment tea and do the copying (that I forgot to do pre-storm) while the tea steeps.  I check my mail and get my boards and plans all set up for the day.

People filter in slowly, and at one point I realize that my tea mug is gone.  I try re-tracing my steps, but I cannot find the mug that I swear I have just been drinking from moments before.  One of my co-workers and I walk together back toward the copy room.  Maybe I left it there, but I'm reasonably certain I had it more recently.

As the two of us amble down the hallway, I see movement in the break-out space to my left.  Could it possibly be?

Yes!  YES!  Breakfast is served!  BREAKFAST IS SERVED!

I pile my plate high with pumpkin bread and homemade applesauce and fruit and two different kinds of quiche and a few other fabulous items.  As a matter of fact, I take so much breakfast that I am still eating it when lunchtime rolls around a couple of hours later (which happens pretty quickly since it's a late start to the day).

Thank goodness for the PTO and for breakfast and for people who can still function even when a ninety-minute monkey wrench gets wedged into the plans.  Long live the PTO, and, by God, LONG LIVE BREAKFAST.