Cafeteria ladies do not make enough money or garner enough respect. I know this, because after 20 minutes in the cafeteria yesterday during 2nd grade’s lunch period, I was almost dead from the lacerations caused by loud, shrill, utterly intolerable noises. It was not unlike being trapped in a small, closed barn with howler monkeys. And I glanced over at Ms. Sallie on several occasions (meaning that she could not have been faking it) and she was unruffled. Completely calm and patient with these savages.
One public caning in that cafeteria would lower the noise level.
As I’ve been back and forth between home and school this week, I’ve experienced a dichotomy of activities and attitudes. The boys are out of school and have been since June 1. And since that time, they haven’t done enough activity to skew the results of a blood pressure machine mid-take. I’m surprised there aren’t bedsores by now. The girls, however, have been moving at breakneck speed toward the end, trying to stay one step ahead of their non-snack-bearing mother, which isn’t difficult. I came into my bathroom tonight and the oldest had showered. I mean, that’s good. I promote showers. But his towel, shorts, and underwear were in a heap. A wet, smelly heap. In MY bathroom. Keep your wet, smelly heaps to yourself. I looked down at that, thought about the bedsores, and decided a housework boot camp might be in order soon. I pictured how that would go and I smiled big and goofy. I think it’s going to go terribly. But I’m still gonna do it. It’ll be a fun new way to fail.
Because sometimes all your failure needs is a fresh idea.
Summer starts today. Boot camp is coming. Life is good.