I'm about to become an honest woman again. Back to work on Monday. Today I took The Pony to school to pick up his schedule and locker assignment. Okay, it was just an excuse to use him as a beast of burden in my classroom. To set out all my textbooks. To readjust the furniture after the summer waxing. You know. To lift and carry 31 desks and 31 chairs to their proper positions, because we can't scoot them. That would mar the fresh wax. Oh, and to help me haul the classroom tables to the right places, and move the file cabinet across the room after finding a dolly to load it on. You're not going to believe this...
EVERYTHING WAS JUST RIGHT!
I was happier than Goldilocks having sweet dreams during a nap in a cushy bed after sitting a spell in a comfy chair and consuming some scrumptious porridge. It could not have been better if a silky unicorn had come trotting down the hall on hoofs that tinkled with jingle bells, snorting rainbows, his gleaming horn stacked with Krispy Kreme donuts, bearing a basket each of precious puppies and fluffy kittens, held by Goran Visnjic in a chamois loincloth.
Every single one of my 31 desks with their accompanying chairs were placed JUST RIGHT in the precise position that I favor. And each of the four feet on each of the 31 desks and 31 chairs were wearing CHAIR SHOES! That's 248 furniture shoes, people! To keep the gleaming tile scuffless.
The bag containing my school laptop was laid upon my desk. And it contained ALL OF MY MARKED ELECTRONIC ACCOUTREMENTS! The tower of amplifier, DVD player, and VCR was stacked just right. All the wires were hooked up. AND IT WORKED! The phone and printer were exactly as I left them, even thought they had been moved out and cleaned. My three tables were in the right places. The mini-fridge and microwave were back where they belong, and they were PLUGGED IN. Whew! I thought I was going to swoon there for a moment.
It was all I could do to prevent myself from twirling around and around in the center of my classroom, singing "The halls are alive, with the sound of competence."
Is there an Oscar, Tony, or Emmy kind of honor for custodians? A "Scrubby," perhaps? Because I am nominating our two building custodians and their summer helpers. They don't even have to thank me in their acceptance speech when they win. Somebody is going to have extra Chex Mix under the tree at Christmas.
Kudos to my cleaning colleagues! Have I mentioned that they are women?