November 17, 2009

Fruit, Stale Chocolate and Total Crap-No Really

I knew it was going to be one of those days when Mr. BBM sprayed Big I's hair with detangler right onto my arm and in the direction of my bagel. The smell of that detangler in all its fruity-non-goodness makes me hold my breath each morning when I spritz Big I. I was already irritated.

But when Mr. BBM decided to make her look like a grease monkey by dousing her roots with at least six sprays of the stuff, I lost it. I can drum up all kinds of crap in my head if I want to. "He was trying to spray my bagel. He's trying to make her look horrible so that I will do her hair from now on" etc. etc.

The last straw was me stepping in a puddle of the spray that had accumulated on my just mopped tile floor. I felt like I was going to explode.

It was then that I spilled coffee down my pants and coat. I was already running two minutes late. There was no time to change.

I arrived on campus and thought my writing students needed a break from the research part of things. So, I did the chocolate activity I do each year. I torture them with a Hershey's Kiss on their desk in front of them and then make them spend an hour writing descriptive phrases to describe what it looks like, smells like, sounds like and finally, tastes like. Last year, all of my students were coming up with these amazing similies and metaphors. Their descriptions were amazing.

This year I asked them what it looked like and someone said "tin foil." I asked them what it smelled like and one of them said, "lotion." I piled on the drama and told them I was looking for a little more description and definitely more, you know, words. Then, two of my boys complained about me giving them "stale chocolate." You know, the stale chocolate I bought last week, the sealed bag that I just opened this morning that has an expiration date of May 2010. Ingrates.

My speech class arrived and it was the first day for group speeches. I had two students show up late for their speeches, as in one of his group members had to call him to remind him to show up because he was still sleeping. What do they expect me to do? Sit and wait for them to show up? I made a mental note to subtract points from the speeches, and/or scream and yell profusely.

After meeting with a student after class whose group is a nightmare, I was off to my next event, a meeting with another board member of the country club to discuss some ideas. We met for over two hours and came up with some great stuff. It's going to be a lot of work though.

I came home, grabbed Big I and Lil C and got right back in the car to go get Big I some racing swimsuits for swim team. I made a wrong turn on the way and it took us an extra 10 minutes to get there. Upon arriving at the store, which happens to be located in my old elementary school, I told the girls how I used to go there. When we entered the building, it was like deja vous. The swim shop was actually located in my 1st grade classroom, directly beside my 2nd grade classroom where the meanest teacher on the planet happened to live. Yes, live, I was convinced she lived there in the basement or something. She was that creepy and horrible.

I told the girls the story about how I had a terrible stomach virus in 2nd grade. I needed to go to the bathroom badly but my teacher wouldn't let me go. I had no choice. I ran out the door and I didn't make it in time. It was one of the most embarrassing days of my life and being there just brought it all back.

I guess I channeled it to Lil C, because after eating a ton of "jumping beans" for dinner, Lil C came tearing across the house from the playroom, heading for the bathroom. But she stopped short and grabbed the back of her pants. She too didn't make it in time. It was a two-parent job that involved one of us balancing her while she stood teetering on the edge on the toilet (with the same one of us dry-heaving repeatedly,-a-hem, that would be me). It was a complete nightmare. My stomach is still doing flips from it.

With the exception of a good meeting this afternoon, this day has been totally craptastic and I'm not anxious to repeat any of it, especially the last part.

And in case you're wondering, it's totally legit for a parent to talk about her daughter's "stomach mishaps" when she has also, in the same post, revealed her own.