Advice and Consent

When my procedure was over, the nurse read the discharge instructions:

No driving.
Sure.
No making important decisions--
avoid signing anything.
Okay.
No drinking.
Mmmm...
No cooking.
Now that's just crazy talk!

More TFD Tales

In a first, I had to turn down a Teacher-for-a-Day proposal.

"I want to teach the class the difference between serial killers and spree killers," a student told me this morning. "Don't worry, it won't be too violent."

I paused, considering imaginary conversations in imaginary cars on the way to imaginary soccer practices or around imaginary dinner tables. Guess what we learned in English today? they might begin, and they would probably end with a phone call or an email to me.

"I don't think so," I said. "Not every sixth grader is ready for that topic."

She shrugged without surprise. "Then can I bring in my dog to show how I teach him tricks?"

Expert Advice

"We want to teach the class how to do a Rubik's Cube," a couple of students in my 6th period class told me today. They were finished with their profiles and ready to embark on the very last assignment of the year, Teacher for a Day.

"Cool!" I said as they handed over their lesson plan.

Scanning the sheet I saw that they planned a lot of talking and then a quiz. "Hmm," I said. "You've been in this class all year. How do you think that's going to work?"

"What else can we do?" they asked.

I shrugged. "Find a video, make a slideshow, borrow some Rubik's Cubes, have a competition, make a kahoot?"

Their eyes widened. "Wow!" said one, "You really know what you're doing!'

It's Only a Day Away

A student spent the whole class chatting with another kid even though his 500 word writing piece is due tomorrow. After intervening several times, I finally called him over to my desk in frustration. "Hey," I said, "if you want to spend the rest of the year talking to your friends, let me know. I'll just put the zeroes in my gradebook now, and leave you alone."

He was indignant! "You can't do that!" he huffed. "You have to wait until the due date to give me a zero!"

I raised my eyebrows.

He scowled. "It's your deadline!" Then he stomped back across the room to continue his conversation.

That Old Familiar Sushi

I was on the sidewalk of nearby shopping center when a woman coming toward me stopped. "Well, hi!" she waved. She was white, about my age, with a thick country accent.

Not recognizing her, I looked back over my shoulder and spotted the person she was talking to, an older woman using her cane to ease her way out of an older sedan.

"Hello!" she called back in an even thicker drawl. "What are y'all doing here?"

"We're going for some tacos!" the first lady told her, gesturing to the fast-casual restaurant to her left. "How 'bout you?"

"We're going for the sushi," said her friend, pointing at the place next door.

"Would you like to join us?" asked the woman on the sidewalk.

"Oh no," the older lady waved her hand dismissively. "We don't really like to try anything new."

Standard Garden Time

I spent a little over an hour in the garden this morning, watering and weeding. I always like watering, and sometimes, like today, I actually enjoy weeding, too.

I take the time to grasp each plant as close to the soil as I can get, and there is great satisfaction to feeling the tiny zipper of roots pulling free from the soil. I go quickly, but carefully, examining each plant before removing it from my garden.

There is a practical reason to proceed as such, especially at this time of year when many volunteers, hardy descendants of crops past are doing their best to establish themselves and continue their lineage. Today I found a little basil plant, a tomatillo, and what just might be a sweet potato slip. Time will tell.

Keeping it Going

Once, when I was in highschool, my brother and I flew from our school in Switzerland to Washington DC for Thanksgiving weekend. It was impulsive: we had our airline passes and we wanted to visit our aunt and uncle. It was in their home that we celebrated every Thanksgiving of our lives until we moved overseas, and the notion of being home for the holidays had an irresistible pull, even to a couple of teenagers like us.

The things I remember about the weekend are scattered. The flags at Dulles were at half-mast. "For Congressman Ryan in Guyana," my aunt noted somberly. A clock radio in the room I was staying in went off in the middle of the night, and not knowing how to turn it off, I drifted in and out of sleep to top 40 tunes until at last I unplugged it. The meal was exactly as I remembered, but no children roamed the woods outside, and although the football game was on in the rec room downstairs, the bar stools were empty, and the air was clear of cigarette smoke. The table was only set for 8, not the usual 15-20.

I also remember that my aunt took us grocery shopping before we returned to Europe. We filled our cart with Dr. Pepper, Doritoes, and all sorts of other treats that were not available at school, and when we returned, we shared our windfall with all of our friends. The grocery bill came to just under 50 dollars, and my aunt insisted on paying it.

I thought of that moment today, for some reason. I could see her writing the check to Safeway, and I could feel the gratitude again. Fifty dollars seemed like a fortune then, and when I searched for an inflation calculator a minute ago, I know why. In 2019 dollars, it was 195.97-- which is a lot of money to spend on junk food for a couple of holiday crashers from Switzerland!

But my aunt and uncle were like that-- generous and gracious. Coincidentally, I am the same age now that they were then. At times I find myself in a position to support nephews, cousins, godchildren by treating them to a meal, or some clothes, or some other special little thing, and it's always a pleasure to do so.

Plus, I like to think I am honoring the example my aunt and uncle set.