Dear Teacher in the Midst of Chaos,
What I am about to tell you is true, even if it sounds fabricated.
Monday afternoon local baseball was cancelled due to rain. For anyone who understands the Jenga match of the family baseball schedule, this was a big, HUGE, deal for our family. We went from a night of exhaustion and chaos to Netflix and an early bedtime, or so we thought.
It all started with the fries.
One little handful of crinkle cuts and the world went up in smoke (pun intended).
I was in the bathroom about to change out of my school clothes when I heard the smoke alarm roaring. I came running to the kitchen to see a small flame licking up the side of the boiler where oil had spilled over to the eye of the stove. My husband was cooking again. Too many fries coupled with too much oil— not a good combo, but he assured me it was no big deal. “I’ve got it under control,” he barked. MEN.
Despite turning off the burner, the flame grew higher, not quite high enough to call the fire department and gather family photos in our arms for a dramatic escape, but still enough to cause my blood pressure to boil (pun intended).
That’s when he decided to sprinkle some flour on the flame to smother it. Apparently, sprinkled flour burns just as easily as oil. By this point, I was fully engulfed (pun intended) in panic mode. “Stop sprinkling it. Throw the whole dang bag,” I yelled. WOMEN.
Fortunately the flour smothered the flames, but what a mess! After my heart palpitations subsided, I resumed the satisfying task of changing into my pandemic attire. That’s when the flood came. While I was assisting with the near death experience, apparently, the toilet had been overflowing in the back bathroom the entire time. Water, Water, Everywhere…and all the tiles did shrink. (Rime of the Ancient Mariner…clearly, the worst piece of literature ever written).
The toilet water was covering my ankles and more was pumping like a primed oil field. We were in the middle of, what felt like a bad sitcom, and all the towels were, of course, in the washing machine.
After turning off the water valve and securing a few crusty beach towels for cleanup, the crisis was averted.
As we sat down to extra crispy fries in water logged shoes, I could not help but think, “This…this is a day in the life of a teacher.” You wake up with the anticipation of a drama-free day. Then, when you least expect it a fire becomes fully involved. While you’re attempting to put out the flames, the flood comes.
These are the days you think you might burn up completely or die by drowning.
But you don’t. You survive, and then you look across the room and realize if you’re going to be in a fire or a flood, at least you’re in it with someone you love.
And this is what makes teaching worth every close encounter.
Of course, it still doesn’t hurt to ask admin for a small request. “If you’re going to keep adding more fries to my class, can you at least scale back on the oil?”
Comments