Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Seeking work replacement- must love cats.
"What's that you say? You have to go? I know it's been a rough week and all, but I thought you guys would tough it out longer than this. No?"
"Well then...farewell to you my once steady companions- Miss Sanity and Madame Sex Drive."
And I know several of you that are going to bask in the glory of this-
This week, for whatever mentally inexcusable reason, I agreed to teach a cooking class for...
Fifteen, yes, FIFTEEN children, ages 5-8. Though, they are mostly in the 5-6 range. Oh dear.
What ever could I have been thinking? I'm guessing I was too busy thinking about butterflies and waterfalls to contemplate the dumbfounding stupidity of this decision.
Two days down, two to go. If I make it through Thursday alive I am celebrating with a martini the size of Jay Leno's head. Maybe two.
A little bit of how today went (3 hour class):
* 2 "group" potty breaks (my building was designed by Dali. Nothing makes sense. Girls bathroom on one side of the building, boys on the other.)
* 2 "individual" potty breaks
* One teary child, sitting on the floor (Joe had been hitting and tormenting the girls on his team all day- until one of them punched him. Then he started bawling. I had to explain to Joe why he probably shouldn't hit people, especially girls who have a Mom with more tattoos than his uncle Wally from the docks).
* One adorable but hyperactive girl that insisted on being a cat all day. "Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow"...well, you get it. I cut her some slack because she kept hugging my legs and saying "I love you teacher". I heart you too, kitty-cat girl.
* One girl who kept complaining that her belly hurt from eating too much frosting, but kept eating it anyways. We engaged in a brief tug-of-war for the frosting bowl. I won.
* Joe (yes, again. He's got Chef written all over him- seriously.) trying to kiss the girls, taking pure joy in them running away, screaming, with me yelling after them to stop running and screaming.
* Every time they all would get something to drink, within 15 seconds someone would drop theirs on the floor. We'd clean up, then someone else would spill.
* The cat girl kept burping really loud.
* One girl insisted on telling me, FIVE TIMES- while I was trying to stop 2 other kids from playing "hey we're frogs" in the kitchen- how she likes to make her favorite sandwich. This is a VERY detail-oriented little girl, I discovered. "What's that? Sure you can tell me something. Oh...the sandwich again. Goody."
* Cat girl took a rolling pin and rolled it up my chest before I could stop her. She said she wanted to "flatten me out." Um, thanks?
* At noon, when all I wanted to do was get started on cleaning up the federally-declared disaster site that was my kitchen, I had to sit and wait for three parents that were late for pickup. Then, when finally they arrived, they seemed to think that I personally had signed the work order for the construction going on that made parking so hard. O.k, yes I did. I spend 50% of my day thinking of ways to make the other 50% of my time more "challenging". Yup.
I'm pretty sure that my birth control questions have been answered at this point.
I think I've been what the experts refer to as "scared sterile".