I'm in the death throes of the 2015-16 school year.  Not to be dramatic.  It's all over but the narrative comments, and I'll likely be live-tweeting the carnage this weekend. My narrative comment tweets have historically been enjoyed by precisely no one, so we can all look forward to that time waster.

Here are two end-of-year vignettes that I want to remember:

The Clock:

My teaching partner KK's clock fell off the wall and broke. She tried to fix it to no avail.  "What should I do about this?" she wondered.  The office manager wisely put in a work order for her.  Problem solved.

The next morning I arrived in my classroom and glanced reflexively the spot on the wall where I keep my own clock to find it missing.  "Oh my god," I thought.  "She STOLE my clock."  I rushed next door to confront KK about her theft, only to discover that her broken clock was still in place, not keeping time, above her door.

Clearly the maintenance department confused us - KK and KC - and took my working clock, leaving her broken clock in place.  

This made me laugh hysterically for many minutes, and I continue to laugh about it to this very day.  Re-reading the story, I can see that it's not really funny.  That just goes to underscore the extent of my exhaustion.

The Rubik's Cube: 

Mac has become obsessed with Rubik's Cubes.  He's got a 2x2 cube and a standard 3x3 cube, and he mostly has one in his hands, whizzing the planes to-and-fro with alarming speed, asking which side he should solve next.  "Orange," I answer, or yellow, red, blue, green, white, or red.

I'm really bad at Rubik's Cubes and most other tasks that require spinning objects in space.  I can't move furniture, park cars, or take standardized tests that require spinning objects in space.  Despite this disability, Mac's been trying to teach me how to solve one side of the 2x2 remedial Rubik's Cube.  I'm embarrassed to say there's been little success, and most of it has been accidental.

"Mom," he said last night.  "Everyone has talents, but the Rubik's Cube is not one of yours."

Truer words have never been spoken.