I was supposed to go to Los Angeles today to hang out with a cute baby. Instead, I'm going to school to hang out with some cute sixth graders who are finishing essays.
I mean, that's cool. Helping sixth graders with their writing is what I really love to do, after all. I wouldn't want another job, as mine is probably the best.
But it was going to be 63 degrees Fahrenheit today in Los Angeles. In Minneapolis, where I live, it might top 20. And there was going to be a baby - my nephew, whom I was going to meet for the very first time. And the reason the trip won't work is because someone else got a head cold. My own respiratory infection, I'll have you know, has been waning nicely.
I would coach my sixth graders on an abrupt and disappointing change of plans thusly: "Oh, man! What a bummer! Do you think you'll get to go some other time?"
Most of them would then maintain a droopy posture, but give a half-smile when I squeezed their shoulders in consolation. Probably it's true. Probably I could go some other time.
Something from the summer of 2006, when nothing ever went as planned, and I didn't make a breakthrough in missile technology.
2 comments:
In my opinion, we do have the best job. I will remind myself of that today as I spend the entire day grading student writing and making helpful comments.
It is a good gig. But babies and LA, that's also a great combo.
I'm sorry you didn't get to go.
I should be grading right now, but I don't really feel like it.
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