I know, I know.
They are all special.
Thank you. That is true.
But today I am going to write this thing in two parts.
I KNOW! WHAT IS GOING ON YOUR WHOLE LIFE IS A LIE WHY HAS EVERYTHING GONE UPSIDE DOWN!?
DOGS AND CATS, LIVING TOGETHER...MASS HYSTERIA!
Let's all calm down.
So today is the day of days, the one both you and I have been waiting for. Today is the day that I will remember forever as...
Okay.
Ahem...
Today is the day I will remember for at least a few weeks as LK-Day.
As in "Little Kid-Day" - as in the day I take my 10th graders to a class of 3rd graders and we build snowmen of science.
Now I can understand why you are inching closer to the edge of your seat. I get it.
You're asking yourself, "If the English call a 'flashlight' a 'torch'...what do they call a torch? How do they differentiate?"
That is a great question.
You're probably also wondering why little kids scare me so much.
You just answered your own question.
Even the word "little" looks like I shouldn't trust it. Little. Nice try. Nice...fucking...try.
There is something...little about little kids. They have little hands. They have little feet. They have little tiny heads that I could crush if I accidentally stepped on one. Yes they carry germs and disease, but the germs and disease are adorable ones.
Sure I could lick a petri dish from the bio lab and get less sick than if I made eye contact with one of these adorable human plague rats, but that isn't what scares me about little kids.
It is the overall little-ness of them. They can get anywhere. And what if they touch you? I don't want to have to cut off any of my limbs because some little kid hugged it. I have grown quite fond of my left arm and the idea of sacrificing it to the Kid Gods is not on my holiday to-do list.
Good lord....WHAT IF ONE CRIES!?
I can't handle that. Give me adults that cry and I know just what to do.
I take my beer and I walk away.
But when a kid does it? I feel like I should do something...or at least, like...care...or something.
AHHHHHH KILL IT WITH FIRE!
Now, IN MY DEFENSE, I have not really been exposed to kids.
That's illegal, you pervert.
What I mean is, I haven't been around children a lot. Mostly because they terrify me, but this is "Which came first? The chicken or the egg" territory now...do children terrify me and that's why I haven't been around kids? Or perhaps I haven't been around kids because they terrify me?
And you wonder why I don't sleep at night with great shit like this to think about.
My sister was married to a guy with kids, but they were already nearly teens. That doesn't count. And usually when my friends get married and have a kid that will be the last I see of them. So the opportunity to steel myself against these little critters....these Litters...never came up, so I am still unsure how to correctly attack them.
I mean the situation. How to best attack the situation. Not the Litters. I would never attack them. I often find they travel in groups or tribes, and I would be overwhelmed if I attacked. Also, I am quite sure it is illegal. A protected species, the Litters. Also, I don't want to always be "that guy that got his butt kicked by 3 babies and a binky" if I can help it.
And have you read Lord of the Flies?
Screw that.
Oh, aren't they just darling?
Let me paint a picture of why these Litters scare me. It is all about perspective...
You show me this:
And I see this:
Or you show me this:
And I guarantee I see this:
It isn't that I don't like the idea of Litters. I was one myself. I have walked in their tiny little adorable Litters shoes. I know what it is like.
I don't remember the ability to smell fear like these Litters do, but I remember a lot.
So in 4 minutes the bell to start my death marc....my walk down to their lair will begin.
I am going to help them make snow out of baking soda and shaving cream, and then we are going to make snow men out of them. I had my students make a ton of accessories for the snow men, including little Bahraini flags and things for the coming National Day. It seems like this should be a great experience...or the last thing I ever do.
What if one of them looks at me?
What is one of them...*gulp*...talks to me!?
OH GOD WHAT IF ONE OF THEM PUTS ME IN A HEADLOCK AGAIN!?
I mean...a headlock for the first time.
First time ever that would have happened.
...
So the second part of this blog will be when I get back from this hour long descent into hell.
When I return heroically...either with my shield or on it.
Plutarch once said, "The Spartans do now ask how many are the enemy, but where they are"
Room 12.
Once I am cleared from the medical facility I am sure I will have to visit to attend to my wounds I can go about the business of the mental rehabilitation I will have to endure. I am sure the psychological damage will be extensive.
When I get back I will update you.
...
If I get back.
No comments:
Post a Comment