ARE WE ALL HAPPY?

Today we return to school after the long, long, loooong holiday break.  Too long.  I was ready to go back last Thursday.  Well, I was ready to teach last week.  What I was not prepared to do was drive in the snow to get home.

Been there; done that.

A few years ago, the Powers That Be decided to keep us in school all day and try and fight the eight inches of wet, slippery, dangerous snow that was already on the roads (and still falling) that had yet to be plowed.  We had kids stuck on buses for five hours, teachers stuck in traffic for seven hours, and it took me two hours to drive about eight miles down the street.

I wasn't looking forward to reliving that shit again.

I jumped up and down like a little kid when the phone call came through calling off school for two more days.  Today, though -- Today I am not jumping up and down.

I am having a hard time adjusting my sleep patterns back into teacher mode.  When I arrive at school, I am already feeling behind the eight-ball because of losing two days, so I am trying to hit the ground running.  Then the first bell rings.

Great.  Hall duty.

I meet the kiddos in the hallway, watching their sorrowful expressions, their lethargic trudging to their lockers.  There is one corner of lockers that used to be part of a hallway that connected modular classrooms to the rest of the building.  Due to construction, the mods have moved to the other side of the school.  Now we have a hall to nowhere with some lockers lining one wall.  I wait until a gaggle of students gathers in the area, tromping over each other like sardines trying to flop out of the can, and ask them a simple question in a loud and cheery voice:

"Aren't you glad to be back?"  I yell boldly.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" they scream at me in unison.

I feign disappointment.  "Oh, come on, you guys, aren't you glaaaaaaaaad to be back?"

Louder and with a bit of piss and vinegar, they respond, "NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

I throw my head back and laugh, like I often do first thing in the morning before my proper senses have kicked in.  The rest of the day is spent automatically going through the motions, trying to stay one step ahead of the students on a reading activity, and telling the ones whose sleep patterns are still completely decimated to wake up and pay attention (though I feel complete and total sympathy with them as I cannot wrap my head around my new schedule either).

At the end of the day, I meet the children at their lockers once again.  I have never seen them move this fast.  Ever.

"Aren't you glad to be going home?"

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSS!" they say, all worn out and tired, but still they say this in unison.

I tell the children that I missed them while we were all on break, and I truly mean it, then I tell them all to go home.

Except for Riley getting stuck in his own sweatshirt, the day has gone off without a hitch.