I was feeling pretty great this morning as I walked into my classroom.
I loved my new haircut, and am still thanking the Gods that the “gray hair gene” has apparently skipped the members of my family. (We won’t talk about the other ones that did not.)
I visited the nurse’s office scale and was happy to see that I was still losing the baby weight I had been clinging to for the past 12 years. Frankly, I think that might have been the last of it. (Uh oh. Did I just jinx myself?)
To top if off, I was able to make a trip to Starbucks before school after receiving a gift card for contributions I had made to a project at the university. (Those incredible barista’s thought I had fallen off the face of the earth.)
So, when one of the other kindergarten teachers called me into her room after the children had arrived, I was on top of the world.
“Mrs. Smythe,” she said, as she put her arm around me in front of her class, “we were just sharing with each other what we did last night, when Joshua told us something very interesting. Joshua, do you want to share your fascinating fact with Mrs. Smythe?”
He was beaming as he looked at me. “My mom’s name is Suzy Snowflake. You were her TEACHER in FIFTH GRADE!!”
blink. blink.
“Why yes I WAS, Joshua! What an incredible coincidence!”
And in one fell swoop he managed to remind me that no matter how many gray hairs I DON’T have, I am probably old enough to be his grandmother.
Oh Sweet Lord.
