We have been deep into conferences this week at work. My team and I are only halfway through, with
one more evening and one more afternoon to go.
The constant sitting has taken a toll on my butt, which is still sore
from what I no longer believe is a pulled glut muscle and now suspect may
actually be something more serious (or broken).
But hey, it's my rear-end we're talking about. What's that old joke? If I
had a million dollars, I'd buy a new ass because my old one's cracked.
Conferences can be arduous.
Thankfully my team and most of the parents have wonderful senses of
humor, and we have some great laughs along the way, debating life in general in
between the business at hand, which is talking about the students for ten
minutes a pop for ten-plus hours over four afternoons/evenings.
In the midst of all this arduousness, and exactly at the
moment we truly need it (because, much as we love chatting with other adults,
this whole sitting still thing isn't working for any of us), we have one of
those Magic Moments that will be talked about for hours, days, months, even
years to come.
We encounter The Candy Lady.
We don't realize she is The Candy Lady until the end of the
conference. After we’re all done with
our spiels, The Candy Lady stands up and opens what appears to be a small-sized
pocketbook and takes out a full-sized box of Russell Stover chocolates. Yummy,
we're all thinking, yummy yummy yummy
yummy yummy!
But then … out comes another box, the same size as the first
box. And then … a third box, the same
size as the first two. Finally … out
pops a fourth full-sized box of Russell Stover chocolates.
We are momentarily stunned.
We are all staring at the small purse from which these boxes came,
completely and totally baffled as to how she managed to pull off such a
trick. It is like watching a magic
show. It is like watching Mary Poppins
open up her carpetbag. We wouldn't be
the least bit surprised if a lamp, horse, and an entire freight train should
come out of that little leather pouch.
The Candy Lady thanks us and makes a bee-line for the
door. After all, the conference went
well, her child is achieving, and she has just spent ten minutes of her life
locked into a secluded classroom with four entirely insane people (we are teachers) who are about to get hyped
up on chocolate. She wisely sprints away
while we are all still in awe over her incredible pocketbook illusion.
The boxes of chocolate haven't been opened yet, but ask me
again on Friday when we're struggling to get through those last three hours of
conferences, when we are fending off the waves of exhaustion from the crazy
schedule. I've a feeling my team will
have four empty boxes of Russell Stover candies in front of us while we are
pinging from one concrete wall to another from the sugar high.
I can think of worse things; not sure I can think of too
many better, though.
Thank you, Candy Lady!
