That Was Not Funny

Right after I arrived at my mom’s house, my brother called. “Tell Tracey we watched one of those movies last night and it was terrible!” my sister-in-law called from off screen. I laughed, because we had also watched a terrible comedy last night. 

Maybe Netflix doesn’t know me quite as well as I thought! 

(Their advertising is pretty effective, though.)

Nothing *TOO* Spooky

I got an email the other day from Netflix asking if I would be willing to take a survey. In exchange, they would extend my account by one month for free. I decided there would be no harm in checking it out, and before too long, I was rather engaged. One of the earliest questions asked me to rank 10 factors for choosing a movie show in order of importance. I do not remember all of them, but I'm pretty sure "humor" was the third from the bottom, just above horror and something else.

Even so, it wasn't until I was midway through the survey that I realized they were showing me all trailers of comedy shows. What's even more curious, is that I was laughing out loud at every trailer and excerpt, and blithely clicking "Probably would watch" for all 6 of the options.

Recalling the survey today to Heidi, my brother and sister-in-law, and my nephew, I giggled just summarizing what I had seen. Obviously? Netflix (and their algorithm) knows me better than I know myself.

In for a Pound

This afternoon I was jumping through completing one of the endless checkout hoops errands that teachers must when I passed a couple of custodians emptying trash cans full of trash and clothing from lockers that the students had supposedly already cleaned out.

"Have a good summer!" I wished them.

"Thank you," one answered. "Are you coming back?"

I looked down the hallway I had just returned from, and assuming she meant the locking double doors I no longer had a key for, shook my head.

Her eyes grew wide. "You're not coming back?" she repeated.

Realizing that she meant next year, I laughed and shrugged. "Oh no! I'm coming back! You can't get rid of me that easily."

She gave an exaggerated sigh of relief, which made me feel very appreciated. "How long have you been here, anyway?" she asked.

"26 years!" I told her, and this time her gasp was real.

"Isn't it time for you to retire?" she replied, only half kidding.

It was probably one of the worst possible days to ask me that particular question, but damn if I didn't answer without hesitation.

"Nope!"

Playing to Strengths

My favorite activity of today's end-of-the-year extravaganza was definitely "Snowcones and chill" which had the kids cooling off inside from the extreme heat and humidity, slurping freshly crushed ice, munching popcorn, and tossing cornhole, playing cards, Jenga, or Mancala. It was a welcome break, and once I scooped the snowcones, I could enjoy the chill.

My second favorite was the kickball tournament. The sixteen team bracket was run flawlessly by our social studies and math teachers, and I never would have even had the chance to get down there had I not been grabbing some leftover watermelon in the office when a mom came in to check her daughter out a little early.

"I'm pretty sure she's at the kickball field," I told her. "I'll walk you down there."

It turned out that mother and child had passed each other and never noticed. We laughed at how silly that was. "Go grab your stuff!" said Mom, and I turned my attention to the game as the student headed back into the building.

True confession? I never saw them leave. That was one heck of a kickball game! And when the ultimate champions came from 2-7 to win it in the bottom of the last inning, I nearly wiped a tear.

For this day, the students had been allowed to select their groups, and both teams consisted primarily of some of the most challenging kids of the year. But in this situation-- a combination of independence and accountability to their peers?

They were stars!

Why Abbreviate?

Heidi has a bit of a gift for blue language. She can swear fluently and rarely hesitate to do so. In fact, she kind of puts the 'pro' in profanity.

That's why I laughed this afternoon when she read me a text with a puzzled look on her face.

it is hot af!

"What does that even mean?" she sighed with aggravation.

"I'm surprised at you Cussy Cusster!" I answered. "Think about it... how hot is it?

"It's as hot as fu--" she started.

"You got it!" I cheered.

Meeeee-ow!

Then there's that other sixth grade team who is planning a "summer safety talk" with the resource officer as part of their big end-of-the-year activity.

Is it just me, or does that scream "Celebrate!" to anyone else?

I guess our students will just have to be satisfied with Capture the Flag, Scavenger Hunt, Team Building, Friendship Bracelets, Bounce House Obstacle Course, Cookout with S'mores, Kick Ball Tournament, Tent Building Race, and Snow Cones.

I hope they can manage.

I Got That

I like to consider my classroom very well provisioned.

Over the last 25 years I've accumulated almost anything anyone could possibly need for any lesson (or its aftermath). When I find I don't have this tool or that school supply, or the lotion, hand-sanitizer, tissue, band-aid, ointment, hot sauce, silverware, napkin, or potting soil someone needs, then I go shopping or order it, pronto.

Today a colleague put my inventory to the test: "If you have this," she said breathlessly, "then you really do have everything!"

"That's a lot of pressure!" I answered. "What do you need?"

"Goo-be-gone?" she replied.

"I... actually..." I paused dramatically, "have that!" And I went to my marvelous cabinet and pulled a little bottle out.