Saw a cartoon in the paper recently with the caption, ‘Alarm clocks…because every morning should begin with a heart attack.’
My version: “School bells…because every day should end with a heart attack.”
I swear they [whoever ‘they’ is…but I have a pretty good idea.] crank up the volume to 11 [aka’ Led Zeppelin-KISS-AC/DC’] at 3:00.
And is it just for Room 36?
Or am I being paranoid?
Or, should I say, more paranoid than before?
Got this in my mailbox a day after my traffic cop performance in the parking lot.
I prefer to think it’s from a friend…
Staff meeting. Interesting. I sat down and the two colleagues at the table found reason to move elsewhere. I kept my head down in the Austin Kleon book I was reading and busied myself by taking out my wheel book.
Then our librarian, Sally Helm, sat down by me. I didn’t expect her to be staying for the meeting, but figured she had some quick announcement for the staff. I pulled out my Joy of Cooking chocolate chip drop cookies [hold the extra tablespoon of flour, thank you very much] and, after pulling out a couple for Mr. Taylor, plopped them between us. I shot her a glance and a smile, then nodded toward the cookies. She dove in.
A few minutes later, we both eyed the last cookie. I nudged it toward her. She chuckled and, with her notebook, slid it back toward me. Kate Smalley leaned forward and hissed [that’s really the only word that fits here], “Would one of you two eat it?” I scooped up the cookie and napkin and underhanded it to her table.
Was happy Mrs. Nix hadn’t shown up yet. It would have been just like her to pull the ol’ “And Ms. Page, did you bring enough for everybody?’ line.
After the meeting ended, it hit me. Shirley was not on the meeting agenda, but there she still was.
“Did you sit here just for the cookies?” I asked her.
“I can’t think of a better reason,” she said.
But it hit me…when she sat by me, there was no hint of chocolate chip drop cookies.
A highlight of my day, that lady was.