Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Bag O Excuses

I’ve just spent a couple of hours with my son.
He talked.
I listened.
We spoke about the last time we were together and how I told him about the bag that he carries on his side.
I call that bag His Bag o’ Excuses.
And let me tell you Punky is quick to get at them.
Sometimes he even picks up two of them.
Today he said that he had thought about that Bag o’ Excuses.
Punky said that he wasn’t trying to reach to the bag so much.
“I just thought that it gets difficult carry it with you all the time, because like everyone else I carried that bag with me too, for a time.”
Punky thought that was funny, and said it made me more human.
Imagine that.

That reminds me of the time when I was in fifth grade and I along with two of my best friends D and R were on our way out to the field for recess.
I was stopped by the school secretary and asked to go to the teachers lounge to deliver a message to Mr. Schultz, my fourth grade teacher.
Back then, in 1972, that was considered a huge honor.
The. Teachers. Lounge.
D immediately wanted to go along with me, and R said she wanted to go play tether ball.
D said, “Oh she is just jealous, she will get over it.”
Both D and I wanted to be teachers when we grew up, because teachers were held right up there on a pedestal along with other role models that we had.
On the way to the lounge, D and I talked about how it would be possible to someday teach at VLM Elementary School.
D would teach fifth grade and I would teach sixth grade.
Life was good. We both had a plan.
We stopped when we came to the door, D and I both held our collective breaths as I slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
All the teachers stopped talking, and stared at the both of us.
There was our teacher Ms. Witrock, holding a cigarette in her mouth.
Miss Appleton, Mr. Grey and Mr. French, all smoking!
Mr. Schultz was pouring Jack Daniels into our Principal, Mrs. Wheaton’s glass.
Miss Witrock suddenly taking out the cigarette out of her mouth and putting it behind her back said, “You do not belong in here, please leave now!”
I quietly explained that I had a note for Mr. Schultz from the school secretary.
Walking around the center table, I handed the note to Mr. Schultz and ran out as quickly as possible.
D and I spent the entire rest of our recess hiding in the girls bathroom, trying to come to terms with what we had witnessed.
It certainly was a life changing experience, for me anyway.
To be continued…maybe
Thank you for stopping by

N Posted by Rain at 5/09/2006 12:22:00 AM

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