Neither have I been abducted. See, there’s this thing called Christmas that is pretty popular, and some nincompoop decided that Christmas meant that all teachers around the USA should run themselves into harried frazzles while trying to make thirty (more or less) children remember lines and speak loudly and slowly and sing songs and not destroy props, all the while cramming lessons so that there is sufficient time for the practice of this tragic idea. Whoever this person was, he should be publicly hung. Then stoned. Then made to do community service in Alabama for the rest of his life.
Also, I do know how to write short sentences. See?
Four more days of class and one half day of dress rehearsal before this dreaded occasion arrives. Four and a half more days of cramming, and panicking, and wondering why I’m a teacher. Then comes vacation, oh blessedness.
Friday morning after the play we three kings of orient, I mean, three teachers intend to crash! Actually, we want to sleep in, then celebrate our vacation with cranberry orange muffins and pork butt that we’ve been saving. Weird combo, I know, but doesn’t it sound delicious? Maybe we’ll have some lovely Christmassy drink too. But mostly we’ll just sit around being relieved. And then Friday afternoon I head to Chicago, and K takes me to the airport, and I fly home, arriving in Charlotte around 12:30 AM, Saturday.
I’ve never flown alone before. So I’m kind of glad I have straight flights both ways. That’s partly why I fly from Chicago instead of Peoria, well, that and the tickets are way cheaper and the times are better and oh! I have a boyfriend up there I might like to see! I fly out of NC on January 4, 2 something PM, so I can still attend most of church. Amen. It’s called squeezing every possibly moment out of my vacation.
December 24th (I think) I go to PA and pick K up in DC on the way, then after a few terrifying days, drop him back off there on my way back to NC. I am actually looking forward to meeting his family. I’ve texted his sister a little bit, and I like her already. But unfortunately, excitement and terror are not mutually exclusive. Like I told Rosie, probably I’ll have some major klutz moment first thing, like farting at the family Christmas table or something. 😁 However, I’ll survive. As I tell my kids, I will live and not die.
Last night was the youth Christmas party at Mara’s house, complete with a white elephant gift exchange and elections for positions in the youth group like Vice President. Can you imagine our youth group doing something like that? It cracked me up. They have president and vice, and a secretary and a vice. As for the gift exchange, I ended up with a lovely glass drink thingamabob for parties. It was much nicer than the majority of the gifts. The Littwilers’ house is lovely, with lots of hardwood floors and classy decor. Suffice it to say their sandblasting business does pretty well. It looked much more Eastern than a lot of the houses here.
Ok, my thumbs are tired of typing now. The end.
Till next week…