My Life as a Smurf (and a baby animal story)

Today was Field Day at my Institution of Learning.

What Field Day entails is taking first the entire eighth grade, and then the entire rest of the school (900 children) out to the football field, and letting them play sports, dunk teachers, etc. ALL DAY. I signed up for gate duty, because I am not a joiner.

Actually, Field Day would not have been all day, were it not for the fact that 80% of the eighth grade passed their SOL (Standards of Learning for Virginia) Writing tests. Last year, 68% passed them. The administration thinks that we all are geniuses. Secretly, I think that standardized testing of writing is wrong, since the judgement of writing is inherently subjective. Case in point, my student who began every paragraph of his essay with "This paragraph is going to be about..." passed the test. (A former teacher told him to do this, and he wouldn't stop. We begged him.) Regardless, I successfully taught some kids how to pass a test. Hooray.

Back to Field Day.

I had a good time at gate duty, making sure that children didn't leave. It was a blast. I got to hang out with my hallway neighbor, Mr. S., a veteran teacher and former military man. He's actually very funny. You'd never guess by looking at him.

To top the day off (because running around outside and eating barbecue was not reward enough) children who read a lot of books and accumulated points for it through the Accelerated Reader program got to throw whipped cream pies in the faces of chosen teachers.

Flashback (an important SOL term!):

Me: Mea.
Mea (the top reader in the school, my student, and a swell kid): Yes.
Me: I was wondering. Since you're throwing the first pie, maybe you could pick me, so I could get it out of the way. And then maybe a not-nice child wouldn't pick me.
Mea: Okay.
Me: Because I was thinking, maybe you could miss.

To the present:

I noticed right away that the whipped cream was actually...blue. I smiled at Mea.

Me: I love you, Mea.

She didn't miss, but she was very gentle. It tasted like raspberries, and if it hadn't been on my face, I would have really enjoyed it. Some day, I can post some pictures, once they're all developed. It should be noted that some teachers refused to be pied.

Those teachers are lame.

I was very blue (although it finally came off, after my shower). The kids all said, "You look like a SMURF!"

"I'm short enough," I retorted.

***

Otherwise: have you ever seen a baby groundhog? Groundhogs aren't naturally the cutest of creatures (unless it's in a tree, in which case, it's adorable). The other day, driving home from work, I saw two bumps in the road--a big bump, and a little bump. I thought it might be some wood or hay, since those are the most common road obstacles. As I got closer, I recognized the groundhog's shape. And the little bump? A teensy tiny puff of groundhog baby.

I stopped the car. They turned around, and retreated into the grass by the side of the road.

I have decided to quit teaching, and devote myself to the breeding of miniature groundhogs. Please let me know your opinions on this field of employment, and whether or not you would be interested in purchasing tiny pet groundhogs.

Thank you.