A day in the strife I mean life

I remember a few years ago after a night of dancing and weekend of walking around San Fran, Emmajane woke up with the most insane case of sausage toes.
(Mind if I share that story?)

(Too late.)

Well, I've got them. My feet are throbbing and I think I know why.

Imagine if the Cousins Club were all in the same class at school. That would be so fun right?
Wrong.
It would be tiring. It would,
my dears,
get old.
Even after just 3 days.

If their teacher was Ms. Me,
Ms. Me would say things like,
"When Ms. Me does this" (show: closed eyes, take a deep breath, open eyes to check if they are still there.... note: they are) "You know you have gone too far".
And
"Ms. Me does not DO wiggly teeth"
and
"Ms. Me does not LIKE the pencil sharpener"
and
"Ms. Me will TAKE those scissors AWAY if you can't walk with them.

There is something so exciting about being a teacher. It's such an unwanted (maybe?) power-trip.
It's a LISTEN TO ME and an OR ELSE and a SIT OVER HERE day in and day out.
It's a GUESS WHAT MS. ME? and a WANT TO COME SEE WHAT I BUILT? and a WHAT COLOR WILL SHE TURN IF I OPEN AND CLOSE MY LOCKER ONE MORE TIME? kind of day.
Have I told you I don't like lockers?

It's not so bad. I make it sound like prison. It's not.
We have our fun. I am the tagger in our "octopus" game.
I tie shoes. I put on bandaids. I don't give "time outs" (yet). I wait until Grandma comes to pick them up after school even though I am hungry because I didn't eat lunch today. I say "don't worry" when their star looks like a smoosh. I share my cucumbers and goldfish when their parents forget to pack a snack. I open milks. I count to 3 at the water fountain. I think of clever book titles like "How did I get glitter on my cheek?"

It is ups and downs. It has to be. I celebrate the highs and mourn the lows. It's just that it all happens so fast.
Like a rollercoaster.
All day.

Well when I got off today's roller coaster (read: came home) there was a surprise in my driveway.
I have to explain myself to the burly construction workers who don't understand why I have tied my dog to the tree in front of my house to take a picture of a tractor.
"I thought my nephews would get a kick out of this in my front yard. And the dog is just making it cute".
This is much easier than explaining why I have to ask you to go use hand sanitizer after I catch you with your finger up your nose during snack.
Or why I confiscate your silly bands and wear them home.

I wish I could explain myself as well as my plants can.
I'm just droopy.
You see?
Must I explain all day?

Well,
this all explains why my feet are STILL throbbing.
Not to mention,
but to mention,
about 1 minute after getting home tonight,
my shoes quit.
But I won't.

Because (as I told my kids)
Thursday is the day first graders come to school and listen and follow directions all day.
And who knows.
They just might.