You know that something is not right with your mind when the smell of the school cafeteria nachos convinces you that processed corn topped with liquid cheese would be a better choice than the apple, cheese stick and homemade veggie soup you have waiting in the teachers'-lounge refrigerator. You go, zombie-like, to the chow line, pick up your carton of milk and your pack of little plasticware, order your nachos to go, add on a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, a chocolate chip cookie, and a styrofoam cup of iced tea, then take it back to your classroom and consume it in a trance.
This, my friend, is February. We are over halfway through the school year, and some students have not made it to the halfway point in terms of learning or behavior. The writing TAKS is two weeks away. The sky is perpetually gray. The school hallways are 45 degrees. The Coke machine eats 75 cents for every $2 you feed it, but by gosh, that Diet Coke might just get you
through the afternoon.
I am not the only one whose pants are getting tight. Last Monday, my mentor teacher, a 35-year veteran of public schools, said she could not button her khakis that morning. She was wearing a cute sweater and jacket, so the pants problem was not noticeable. Nor did it seem to bother her. She shrugged as she slid a bag of cookies onto the table where we were meeting. "TAKS season," she said, the same as one might say, "the holidays," or "freshman fifteen," or "steroids."
And so, I eat my way through February -- trying to get some fruits and veggies, stay away from the Coke machine, and pack lunches that, at 11 a.m., will outshine the cafeteria nachos in my skewed mind. (How can they get away with serving nachos, anyway?)
Dog photo:
Cupcake photo:
