Tuesday, December 6, 2011


Yesterday afternoon’s march to the bus with the kids was a comedy of errors, the first time this year, for one thing, that the weather presented us with any real difficulty with the task. Rain was falling in a fair amount and, with four youngsters in tow, carrying an umbrella isn’t really a viable solution. One just ignores the downpour and accomplishes the feat as quickly as possible. One of our boys, though, spends most of his time with his homeroom classmates, returning to us but the last two hours of the day; and, at the last minute on this occasion, I found myself having to run upstairs to that particular unit in order to retrieve a folder. No big deal; or at least so it seemed. The substitute teacher would finish matching up clothing and articles with the proper students. On my return, another woman swapped one of her girls with us for the boy just reunited with his material (a matter of convenience for both of us) and left for her own journey through the wetness outside. Only my charge remained to be dressed for the trip. But wait a minute! Where’s HIS jacket? Discovering that the sub had mistakenly put this covering on the other lad who was already headed out front, I dashed out, got the boy, rushed to the upper level to search for his coat, downstairs again to get our crew and escort the bunch through what was now the whole school making the same exit, ensure each child boarded the right yellow vehicle, all with Mother Nature’s spigot yet turned on, and then back inside for an hour of instruction agreed to last week. It would be later, while driving home, that it would occur to me as to question whether the one fellow’s expensive Ipad that returns each day to his parents got stuffed into his backpack. Their number was in the book, however, and a phone-call to them about seven o’clock let me verify the sub’s handling of the matter, this old man finally able to put it all behind him and relax for the evening. No complaints. These kinds of moments tend to keep it all spontaneous and make it more interesting than just simply sitting on my front porch whittling, waiting for the next train to pass by……

1 comment:

  1. Just browsing in the past here, Jim. This one made me chuckle. Quite the visual.