At 6:15, I stumbled out of bed to the sound of my alarm, ran my fingers through my nappy hair, causing it to stand straight up in stiff greasy tufts, drove to the gym and ambled through a sleepy workout. It wasn't exactly a body makeover but developing a habit's half the battle, right? I'm sure that two or three weeks from now, I'll be washing clothes on my abs.
My throat started to feel kinda funny at the gym, so on the way home I stopped by Ye Olde Grocery Mart to pick up something fizzy to drink. There's nothing like bubbles and aspartame to heal any infirmity.
Traffic was still amazingly bad due to the flooding and road closures but I made it home in time to shower and get ready to take my turn teaching preschool.
The kids came in and immediately began asking for a toy break. Break from what? We hadn't even started class yet. Sometimes I think the preschool curriculum exists only to give us something to argue with our kids about. We learned about the letter K and legs and penguins and inches. Toilet paper rolls were employed.
Laylee's friend told me she was too tired to measure anything else. It was then I invented the "flop-nap."
"Okay, kids. It's time for a flop-nap. Spin around four times really fast. Flop down on the ground and pretend you're asleep while I count to 50 really slowly," and they fell for it. It was, as they say, sweet.
They then colored for approximately 30 seconds and proclaimed craft time "done." Dan, who is obviously heading for a career in early childhood education, whispered that I should tell the kids that they were not "done," that their pictures sucked and that they needed to start over again. I chose instead to ask them why they hadn't colored the grass. What color might the grass be? How many legs does it have?
Amazingly, I had enough material to fill the full two hours and the kids were not organized enough to stage a full-scale mutiny.
We then headed to music class, where the kids played Tickle or Prickle. It turns out that five out of six preschoolers agree that feathers, pine needles, tin bristles, and leaves are all equally tickly. Tee hee hee. Apparently an object needs to draw blood in order to be classified as prickly. Magoo played percussion instruments while Laylee danced about like a wee fairy and I tried to determine if my throat felt "drink more soda"-funny or "nurse, hand me a swab"-funny.
For lunch, we went to Enchilada Town, and after our meal, the waiter brought us cookies sprinkled with cinnamon, sugar, and honey. Each one was topped with fresh whipped cream and strawberries. Laylee quickly took her spoon and sampled the cream from each cookie. As I went to feed one to Magoo, Laylee called out, "Stop mom! You probably shouldn't eat those. They all have my germs in them."
Nice try, buckwheat! If you're not careful, I'll conjure up another flop-nap.