Category Archives: kids

Comedy of Errors

That’s the only way I can describe yesterday. Seriously. The office was actually closed for Presidents Day – something I didn’t realize until last Thursday, so that was a nice surprise – and the minions were off of school. The Spouse had to go in for one of those incredibly stimulating Teacher Work Days (translation – spend the day working through technology competencies online) and the three of us were home alone. So, being the Type A that I am, I attempted to plan the Perfect SAHM Day.

I was a machine. Up and moving way before my normal time, I had dusted, vacuumed, whipped through two loads of laundry and scooped the cat poop before 9:15 AM. Huzzah!! Minion #1 actually got up of his own free will AND MADE HIS OWN BREAKFAST!! Double-score! I was on a roll! Told the minions that we would head out to run some errands around 10. And get this – they were actually getting along and sharing! I settled in with a second (ok, third) cup of coffee and a book.

10 AM – piled into the car with no resistance. Granted, Minion #2 had figured out the Netflix app on my phone, so they were watching a movie – but they SHARED it and actually put the phone in the middle of the backseat so they could both see it. If you’ve got more than one kid – or grew up with siblings – you know exactly the kind of miracle that happened here. Surreal.

Stop 1 – getting the car serviced. Normally a 20-minute job.

And that’s when everything changed.

“Ma’am, there’s something that’s not working here, and we’ll need to get it replaced as soon as possible.” ** And can I just tell you how much I hate it when anyone over the age of 20 calls me ‘ma’am’??

“OK, can I just pull over now and have you take a look?”

“Well, no – see, we’re really backed up today. But you can call Corporate from here and book an appointment to come back. ASAP.”

First of all, I’m confused why they can’t schedule their own stinking appointments. But I smiled, nodded, called the 800 number and got an appointment – for 3:30 in the afternoon. Ok, so the roller rink was out. But surely there was something else fun we could substitute, right?

Stop 2 – Haircuts for Minions. I don’t make them appointments. I have NEVER made them an appointment. We always go to the same place, walk in, and walk out 30 minutes later with two fresh cuts. Hannibal Lector said it best here: “But not today…”

Apparently, since school was out, every other parent in H-town made their kid an appointment for a haircut today. At the ONE place we always go. Was told that there was ‘at least a 40-minute wait.’

WTHeck? Really? A place that cuts kids’ hair expects me to wait 40+ minutes and try to keep two BOYS entertained? On a school holiday? Seriously, they could have planned ahead and scheduled more staff. I wasn’t having it. We left – to go to the other haircut location. And it started raining. And we drove uphill, through blinding hail, both ways…

… to find that there was only a 20 minute wait there. Sigh. After all that, I was bound and determined that these kids would get their hair cut. So we waited. I gritted my teeth and smiled when the A/C blasted us into chill-blivion. I gritted my teeth harder and smiled when a woman with three kids signed in after us and got taken back first. She had an appointment.

Lesson learned, OK?? Got it! I will NEVER take my sons for haircuts without appointments on a school holiday again!

Minions were – still – surprisingly well-behaved, so we stopped and got ice cream to soothe their shorn-headed dignity. Then it was on to get Minion #1 new glasses – since he has somehow managed to break both nose pieces off of his. Don’t know when or how, but it is what it is. Quick jaunt into Vision Center, right?

On ANY OTHER DAY, yes. Presidents Day? Heck no. Two opticians. One occupied with a lady who spoke little, if no, English. So she passed the woman over to the Spanish-speaking optician. Ok, our turn, right?

Wrong. The first optician patiently waited for the second one to translate for her instead of just switching customers and helping us.  Really? I’ve worked in retail. Believe me, I’d want the harrassed-looking woman with two kids dripping ice cream on the floor (that was me, at that point) out of the store as fast as possible – and would have done anything to make it happen.

Not these opticians. No way. I held my ground. Dangit, we were there to get glasses and we weren’t leaving without ordering glasses.

Until I realized that the Spanish-speaking lady was ordering not one, but five pair of glasses. For five different people. Who weren’t there. She was nice enough to try and take their preferences for frames over the phone – while we all waited.

Stick a fork in me. I was done. Sticky drippy sugared-up minions back in car and home.

That only took three hours. Oh, and two hours later I was at it again, back to the auto shop. At least by then the Spouse was able to get the minions from me and take them home. So much for my perfect SAHM day with the kiddoes.

And the kicker?? This morning I get tears from Minion #2, who said, ‘I want to stay home with you today. We didn’t do anything fun yesterday. It was boring.’ You have to insert the 7-year-0ld whiny voice on the italics to get the full effect. Trust me.

Sigh. I agree, kid. I agree. Teachable moment – life happens.

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Filed under Houston, kids, life lessons, Moms, working moms

Mom Fail

It’s happened. To my kid. And it all hit the fan this morning. I guess I should be glad that it’s taken this long for us to hit this particular road block, but it still sucks. And I can officially claim the title of Worst Mom Ever.

What happened, you ask? Here’s the dirt. Minion 1 brings home a conduct card every Wednesday from school. I go to sign it this morning and see notes from both teachers about missing homework. TWO WEEKS OF MISSING HOMEWORK. I saw red. Seriously. That kid has been telling us for three weeks that he’s had no homework because of testing at school. Made sense to me, since that was the policy at the minions’ old school, and this one is in the same district.

That was stupid of me. I should have known. This school doesn’t mess around with homework. Ever. So why would I think that they would actually cancel homework because of testing? Stupid, stupid me. Basically my kid has been lying to me for almost three straight weeks and I had no clue. None. Zero. Zilch.

HOW STUPID CAN I BE?? I’ve had this conversation for years with parents of my students. Kids lie, they all do, and it’s just part of parenting, right? That’s what I’ve always said – every kid lies at some point to try and see what they can get away with. Doesn’t make them bad kids and doesn’t make parents bad parents.

So why in the heck do I feel like the Worst Mom Ever?

Because, that’s why. I tend to look in the mirror whenever there’s a problem, no matter what kind of problem it is. Raining today? What did I do to cause that? Part of it is my ego getting in the way (since everything MUST be all about me, right?) and part of it is my self esteem cracking the whip (you MUST have done something to screw this up somehow). And that’s a problem.

I was a stellar mom this morning. Take the homework issue in stride? Calmly talk it out? Right. Granted, I started out that way, but things escalated, I lost my temper, and completely blew the issue out of proportion. By the end of it I had unloaded all over the Spouse about how the real problem is my job and its long hours, and if I stayed home the minions would never turn in homework late, lie or fail to clean up their rooms when asked the first time.

That’s total crap. They’re kids. And boys. They’re going to screw up now and then, and it isn’t ALWAYS going to be my fault. But losing my temper IS my fault and that’s where I am feeling the guilt today. And where I also unloaded on the Spouse, saying that if it weren’t for my job I wouldn’t be so stinkin’ tired, nasty and crabby. Which may be partially true.

I’m dropping the ball all over the place. Parenting, work, spouse, home – it’s been a crapshoot this week. We haven’t gotten home before 8:00 yet. My grand weekend plan? Forget it – not this week. I’m doing good to remember to take out my contacts before I pass out in the bed, usually by 9.

Somebody throw me a bone here. Or a floatie. Because I feel like I’m drowning and the shore is nowhere in sight. Mayday!!


Filed under Homework Issues, kids, Parenting, working moms

Schooled, Again

As promised, here are a few more tidbits from the lesser-known inside world of public education:

Skillset? Whatchyou Talkin’ About??
This one gets me every time. And it usually gets TO me as well. Last year I left the world of public education – at least, as a career. I’m still in it as a parent and that’s a WHOLE other ball of wax. Anyhoo, during my job hunt I was really amazed – amazed and discouraged – at the number of corporate types who view teaching as irrelevant or non-experience in the business world. That’s just dumb. Skillsets? Please. I’ve got skills to spare. You just have to look at the facts. For example:
Technical writing? I learned this one through the process of The Office Referral. The Golden Rule here? Be Specific. So, yes, I can write with brevity, specificity and direct quotations. “Johnny chose to look at a friend, shout ‘You smell like ass!’ and climb on top of the coat cabinet.” That’s a direct quote, people. Or this one:
Sales skills? Again. Please. YOU try sitting in on a conference with Protective Mama Bear and try to put a diplomatic spin on the fact that her little darling – who has never done anything wrong – thought it would be funny to paint his name on the restroom wall – while peeing. Mama Bear’s argument? ‘Are YOU a boy? YOU just don’t get it. Sometimes they just can’t aim.’ No, I’m not a boy, but I get the fact that, when I’m standing outside the boys’ room and four boys exit laughing with EXACTLY the same story about Jimmy peeing on the wall – there’s probably some truth to that. But it takes excellent sales skills to get Protective Mama Bear to admit it.

Growth and Development is Even More Horrifying as an Adult
Oh my. I learned this one the hard way. A couple of years ago, during my Master’s work, part of my degree was and on-the-job internship. My mentor suggested that I needed to step up and be the ‘go-to’ person when anything was needed. So when the ad went out for extra female chaperones during the Growth and Development film I eagerly – and naively – volunteered immediately. This was going to be my Path to Administration. And the end result? I was horrified. Back in my day, the Growth and Development film for girls was some old – really old, as in on a reel-to-reel projector – film about the marvelous changes to your body. It was probably filmed in 1965. So I wasn’t prepared for the up-close-and-personal diagrams – really detailed diagrams – of a woman’s hoohah. Labeled and everything. I’m pretty sure my gasp of horror was louder than any of the girls’. Chaperone Fail.

Strength and Agility Drills? Check.
During my second year teaching in The Hood, I lost my classroom to another department and was sent out to a portable building. A quarter of a mile from the building. Bathroom emergencies? Forget it. Anyhoo, this also meant that administrators were less likely to come visit – because they just didn’t want to walk that far. This was also a bad thing more than once. Take, for example, the time that Montell or Montrell – I can’t remember which – got upset about his behavior card and decided to run away. From school. He was out the door before I could catch him. Keep in mind that my portable backed up to a busy urban street. If he ran out there, he’d get squashed like a bug. So I grabbed him just as he tried to jump the rail around the stairs. Got a teacher’s aide to call the office. There I was, dangling a 55 pound kid over a rail five feet off the ground with one arm. And the office replied that the higher-ups were all in a meeting and could I just handle it this one time? Sure. No problem. Same thing on the day the kid decided to use me as target practice with his shoes. And other small objects he found in the room once he ran out of shoes. Heck, I could win a dodge ball tourney just with the skills I learned that day, folks.

Some Administrators Get It
And finally, here you go. A fairy tale in a world where administrators sometimes get a bad rap. A colleague of mine got a surprise visit from our district supervisor one day. As music teachers, we had the normal on-campus principal evaluations but also the regular district-level walkthroughs. So anyway, our supervisor came by to visit my colleague. After class I asked her how it had gone, and she replied, ‘Not that great. Kids were awful and he only stayed three minutes. I’m probably gonna get fired.’ Later that day, guess what? The same guy popped in to watch my class. Stayed the whole time and even lingered to visit afterwards. He was in a good mood, so I ventured to ask about my colleague’s visit earlier that day. His response? ‘Oh, I’m going to email her and ask when I can reschedule. And offer to buy her a drink.’ Huh? I was confused, and said so. Told him she thought she might lose her job. His response??

Wait for it.

“Lose her job? Please. I’ve seen lots of things, but Jesus Himself could not have controlled THAT classroom on THIS particular day.”

And that, folks, is just a snapshot of Public Education!

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Filed under kids, Moms, Public Education, Teaching, working moms


If you read any of last week’s posts, you may remember that my parents were in town for a visit. Mom and I got a chance to shop and hang out, and she asked how my job in the business world compared to teaching. That got me thinking.

Now, Mom has always said that I should write a book about some of my teaching experiences. I never thought that I’d have all that much to write about. But now that I’ve got some distance from the world of public education, I see that what I used to call ‘everyday events’ were actually pretty extraordinary. So I thought I’d share some of the little-known facts that those of you who aren’t embedded in the education world may not have the privilege of learning. Here goes:

Technology is a Double-Edged Sword
When I first started teaching, ‘mandatory trainings’ consisted of gathering around the TV/VCR combo during a faculty meeting and watching whatever district-issued presentation had been approved for that particular year, and signing off on a sheet of paper that you’d attended. Usually just mundane, the worst was the blood borne pathogen video. Up close and personal, I learned more about how to clean up spurting bodily fluids than I ever cared to. And, to make it worse, our faculty meetings were always before school, around breakfast time. It’s hard to choke down some yogurt or toast when blood is pooling and spurting on the screen. But gradually these video-based sessions gave way to the online version. That was better. Still mundane, but clicking through slides and answering random questions got rid of the spurting blood. Especially when you could borrow the ‘study guide’ from a nearby teacher who’d just finished the training.

School Nurses Are Grossly Underpaid
Never did I learn this more than the one year I taught in a district close to home. Literally, five minutes away. See, I’m sure any of you who’ve been to school remember the twice-yearly head check. That’s right – the Lice Check, folks. Well, apparently this particular district decided that the Lice Check wasted valuable instructional time. Lining up the whole class, walking to the nurse, waiting, walking back, etc. It takes time. So in this well-meaning district, once per six weeks I would get a bag of sticks and a pair of latex gloves in my mailbox. You guessed it – teachers had to do their class’ Lice Check every six weeks. The one thing I can’t stand is the idea of lice. Just the thought of it and I feel things crawling all over me. So imagine me, with my gloves and two sticks, checking heads. The boys were OK, but the girl with the waist-length hair that hadn’t been combed (or washed) in a while – yech. Nurses should earn combat pay.

Yes, Even Puke Has Rules in School
Knock on wood, I was never peed, pooped or puked on during thirteen years of teaching. I’ve had kids puke on desks. No big deal. But I did become briefly notorious during one week in my music teaching days. See, in a typical day between 120 and 270 kids would come through my room. Yep, you read that right. And  if a virus is going around, that seriously ups the odds of sick kids in one place at one time. One day, after I’d called the office for the fifth cleanup in a day, our oh-so-patient head custodian personally showed up to do the deed. I loved this man. Always ready with a smile and a joke – for teachers or kids – he was a rare gem. But as he showed up for my fifth cleanup – this time a splatter in the doorway – he leaned in, put his face close to my ear, and whispered, “Ms. B – what the hell are you doing to these kids in there today?”

And the rules don’t stop there. Standardized testing?? As much as I hate it, I’ve got to hand it to the folks in Austin – they’ve obviously hired real teachers to come up with rules for every possible testing scenario. In the Lice Check district, we had a kid puke on Test Day. All over the test and his answer sheet. Guess what? According to the rules, a teacher has to transcribe all answers onto a new answer sheet and write up a detailed explanation (witnessed by the counselor) of events leading to the transcription. But it doesn’t stop there. Apparently two adults’ statements that the original got puked on aren’t enough evidence. Rules state that you also must bag and submit the original testing materials along with the transcription. Yep, folks, that means that a bagged, puke-covered answer sheet went to Austin in a Priority mail envelope. I bet the person who got to open it felt really lucky they decided to come to work that day.

Teachers Get Built-In IQ Tests, Daily
I spent two years teaching in the Hood. As the music teacher, I saw each kid once every seven days. They rotated through art, music, PE and the library. In one particular kindergarten class a kid gave me trouble. Shocker. Teaching kindergarten music is like herding cats, in case you wondered. So anyhoo, I asked this kid’s name and he told me it was Montell. By the end of class I knew Montell’s name on the first day. Few days later – same kid. ‘Montell! Please sit down.’ Kid replies, ‘I’m Montrell. You got my name wrong.’ Few days later – same kid. But this time he tells me I’ve got it wrong – it’s not Montrell, it’s Montel. Confused yet? I was. I couldn’t get it straight for six weeks.

Until the day we pulled the entire kindergarten together to practice the Christmas program. And I finally figured it out. THERE WERE TWO OF THEM! TWINS! AND THE MOM NAMED THEM MONTELl AND MONTRELL. Really. I can’t make this stuff up. There was another set of twins too – Johnny and Jommy. Honestly, if you have twins it should be mandatory to give them drastically different names!

Not All Fashion Police are Adults
During my second year in the Hood, we got a lot of new kids from Hurricane Katrina. No, no sets of twins among them, thanks. But there was one special little cherub named Jacklyn. Sweetie – she always welcomed me with a smile and a hug. Until the day I got a haircut. ‘Ms. B – why’d you go get a wig?’ ‘Jacklyn, it’s not a wig. It’s my hair. I got bangs when I got my haircut.’ Nope. No way. She just wouldn’t believe it. We went back and forth until, as I was sitting on the floor with my circle of kiddoes playing a game, she decided to PROVE it to me. By climbing up into my lap and trying to pull that wig off my head. Needless to say, it didn’t work. And that was the last time I cut bangs with layers.

Dress Codes are for Everyone
One of the schools I spent time in had a very strict dress code for staff. Students wore uniforms. And one of the specific rules for staff stated that ‘stirrup pants are not to be worn.’ Can you guess the age of the principal and when the dress code was written just by that one rule? You’re probably right. Well, one of the teachers got called into the office one day for a violation. It was a full-on, behind-closed-doors official reprimand. The teacher in question was called out for wearing leggings with her over sized t shirt. Granted, it was a violation, technically. But let’s look at two important factors. One – the teacher was eight and a half months pregnant, hubby was in grad school full time and she had woken up that morning to find that absolutely no other pants fit. If you’ve ever been pregnant, you know that this can and definitely does happen at the drop of a dime. Factor two – this teacher taught PE. But she got called out anyway. She tried to explain the situation to no avail. She was told to change or go home. She went home.

That’s all I’ve got for today folks – but I’m really just getting started here. I’d love to hear your comments and suggestions for future ideas. Should I turn this into a book? Starting to think so.

Maybe I’ve finally found my hobby…

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Filed under kids, Moms, Teachers, working moms, writing

It’s All About the Pants – Again

If you’ve read any of my recent posts, you may remember last week’s battle of the pants. Not Battle of the Planets. That was one of my all-time favorite cartoons as a kid. No, the Pants Situation was huge in our house. In fact, that post actually generated some interesting comments and almost started a debate on parenting in general. I’m pretty darn proud of that. But I’m realizing that the Pants Situation has spilled over into other areas of our family life.

And it’s not about pants. It’s about control. Who has it, who keeps it and who doesn’t.

One of our family things is our weekly Saturday night dinner. We don’t eat out during the week, so Saturday is our one time to head out for a meal. If you’re like me, you’re thinking – score! Diverse Big City equals unlimited dining options!

Wrong. That was before we had kids. Now, in an effort to be fair, we rotate each week on who gets to choose the restaurant. That plan has totally backfired. Why? Well, in a city where you can literally get anything from Colombian to Indian to Moroccan to Mongolian to Sardinian (all in a four-block radius), the picky-eating minions have sentenced us to The Cursed C’s.

Chili’s, Carinos and Chuy’s. Blegh. Mediocre chain restaurants on a good day. (Although I will go to Chuy’s just for the jalapeno ranch. Seriously, it’s that good. Try it.)

Yes, I know what you’re thinking. We opened that can of worms, we’re the adults and we created the monster. We should just put our feet down and put on the pants, right? Sure. And every Saturday night – scratch that, Saturday from noon on – would turn into a poutfest, whinorama, drama-king performance. No thanks. So on those occasions we turn over the pants to the minions with the (slim) hope that we can get them to at least try a few grains of fried rice, pho or kebab one of these days.

But speaking of pants, the control situation doesn’t end there. The Spouse and I had this debate early on in our relationship and again in the first weeks of our marriage. Bottom line – I grew up in a household where the Alpha Female wore the pants. Unequivocally. And, just to be clear, I was most definitely not the Alpha. I didn’t like it, but I decided early on that I wasn’t cut out to be the kind of wifey who never wore pants and hung on Hubby’s every word with bated breath for the next command. I saw that in action more than once. When a male friend sat down at the table to a fully cooked meal, then turned to his wife (who was trying to get the kid’s plate ready and fill a bottle for the baby at the same time) to say, ‘Babe, how am I supposed to eat this without a fork,’ I threw up in my mouth a little. Took all my self control not to scream ‘Dude, turn around, reach six inches to the drawer and get it yourself. She’s freaking busy right now!!’

I kept my filter on and didn’t say it. Luckily.

Now the Spouse’s take on this has always been that we should share the pants. As he says, it’s more fun that way. Haha. Insert innuendo here. And for the most part, that works out well, except in certain situations.

  1. If I try to comment on his driving. He actually hogged the pants one time and shot back that comments on his driving “would not be tolerated.” That’s a quote. I love you honey, but that one threw me for a loop.
  2. And on the flip side – if little things get left out around the house – I’ve been known to steal the pants and issue commands and ultimatums about cleaning up after yourself.

Either way, it works for us. But my question is – how are some people able to completely manipulate their kids/significant others/coworkers into just letting them wear the pants 24/7?? We’re talking major life and work decisions here. Things like ‘I refuse to work because I don’t want to, and you will support me in this,’ or ‘Starla and Magnus must go to the private school whose minimum tuition is $50K.’ Seriously. I’ve heard it. And, being exposed to the Stepford Wives’ club the way that I have, all of that and more happens.

WTHeck??! Like I said, sharing the pants works for us, but really? Part of me wonders what these others have that I don’t – if I even tried that level of manipulation the Spouse would just laugh and then school me on how miserable I would be if I got away with it.

Hmph. Guess I’ve got too much conscience for that.



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Filed under Alpha person, kids, Parenting, Relationships, School, Working

Teacher Gift Update: Trumped!

So, I have to amend yesterday’s Top Ten Interesting Teacher Gifts that I’ve received. My Spouse teaches eleven and twelve year-olds, and he brought home a gift from a kid that truly surpasses anything I could have imagined. Ready??

Now keep in mind that the kid who gifted this is twelve. So he’s probably thinking that this will help Mr. Spouse up his swag quotient with the ladies (namely, me). Personally I’m dying to find out what ‘Really Ripped Abs’ smells like. But it wouldn’t be fair to leave you without the whole picture. Here ya go:

Merry Christmas!!

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Filed under Awkward, Christmas, kids, Teacher Gifts

The School Program

So last night was The Big Night in our house. The Christmas Program. Ok, ok, to be totally PC we had to call it the Holiday Musical. But really, it was a Christmas program with all the bells and whistles. My fourth grader has been so stoked about this program for weeks – especially since he was chosen to play percussion on two parts of the entire deal.

Having been an elementary music teacher in my past life, I took this whole experience with a big grain of salt. See, in my experience, programs have been an excuse for the school administrator to ‘look good’ with their peers by being able to brag that the number and quality of their programs were greater and better than any other school. I’ve stayed up nights worrying that Johnny will forget a line or sing off-key, and angry helicopter parents (expecting little Starla, Magnus and Felicity to appear in a Broadway-worthy production) would lynch me as a result. Seriously.
Not this program. It was a good ol’ Christmas program right up there with The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. And I have to say that it was The. Best. Program. I’ve ever seen. Let me break it down for you.
Opening scene: three girls narrating the setting of the story (a town where it never snows – go figure). One of the girls, an adorable towheaded blonde, immediately forgot a line. When her friend tried to prompt her, she was quick to declare, “I don’t re-mem-ber!” into the microphone and looked to the music teacher for the same exact prompt. We laughed.
Next up: a few songs sung by adorably-dressed kids, looking totally like real kids in plain old winter clothes. No elaborate costumes, just regular kids dressed in regular stuff. Having a snowball fight with blow-up white beach balls. Did a couple of them get overzealous and peg their friends in the face? Of course they did. They’re nine. We laughed. I laughed even harder when the poor kid came out dressed as Frosty the Snowman, his costume stuffed so full of pillows that he could barely move, let alone ‘dance around’ like the song says. Honestly, he reminded me of Randy from A Christmas Story. ‘I can’t put my arms down!’ I cried, I was laughing so hard.
Next up: dancing mice (some of whom looked really thrilled to be there), chickens getting chased by a kid dressed as a Grandma making chicken soup, kids sneezing from the cold, an Elvis impersonator with a blow-up guitar, etc. etc. You can’t make this stuff up. Really.
My favorite – well, a tie for my favorite. The song about ‘Winter Wipe Out.’ Nine year old boys pretending to sled and snowboard – and having to fall down. Which was perfect. Mine love to do that anyway. Until one of the kids fell down with such enthusiasm that he also took down the scenery lamp post. Not planned. One of the other kids – who had already fallen down – jumped up and tried to pick up the lamp. It fell again. Complete. Greatness. Mascara was streaming down my face at this point.
Finally – the BIG FINALE. One boy was supposed to come running out to announce the latest radio broadcast – SNOW! Except for one thing. He got completely lost in all the fancy-radio-jargon of his lines, got frustrated, and finally shouted, ‘Whatever! It’s snowing!’ Truly brilliant.
THIS IS WHAT KIDS’ PROGRAMS SHOULD BE, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! I actually had flashbacks to my own second grade program here. I vaguely remember Santa ripping off his beard at one point because it was too itchy. And, thanks to Facebook – and a friend with a serious photo archive – I’ve got pics to prove it. Don’t hate on the olive green stage curtain either. It was the late 70’s. Very much the thing to go with the gold and orange cafeteria décor at my elementary school. We thought we were hot snot because no other grade got to do a program. Check us out:

For the record, I was NOT one of the scary-looking dancing snowmen. Nope.

What gems do you remember from your own (or your kids’) programs? Do share – they’re too fabulous to keep to yourself!

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Filed under Christmas, kids, Moms, Music teachers, School Programs