It's Autumn. It's getting cold. It's time to put the electric blanket on the bed. And it's time to remember a little story that still makes me laugh when I think of it.
Many, many years ago, I worked as a teacher's aide at a wonderful middle school in Glen Rock, PA. The teacher was my friend Glenda Penigar, and we worked as reading instructors. I loved working at that school, with those kids, and with that amazing faculty.
Glenda and I did a lot of functional reading lessons with the kids. One day we were teaching the kids to read catalogs and order merchandise. Part of their lesson was to order gifts for friends, family, and their teachers. Then they had to total up their costs and correctly complete the order form. To exercise their writing skills, they needed to explain why they selected the particular gifts for each person. Glenda and I were gifted many household appliances. But, I remember how one of the boys ordered an electric blanket for me. His reasoning? He decided that since Miss Snyder was all alone she needed something to snuggle up with and keep her warm at night.
So, as I put my electric blanket on my bed, I remember that story from 40+ years ago. And I chuckle. I can see the kid's face, but I can't remember his name.
This is a teacher's life. Kids stay with us forever. They warm our hearts as well as electric blankets warm our bodies.
Saturday, October 20, 2018
Tuesday, October 16, 2018
Why I'll Probably Be Single the Rest of My Damn Life
Today I had the urge to buy an air pressure gauge. My tires have sounded kind of squeaky lately, and after researching how to use one on YouTube, I decided it was time to buy one.
I took a run to the neighborhood Wally World, and headed to the automotive department. There I saw the gauges hanging from hooks way over my head. I was able to swat one down, but the one I wanted to compare it to, eluded me.
And then there he was. A nice man helping me out. He was around my age, full head of silvery hair, built on the stocky (ok, really stocky) side, nicely dressed, neat and clean, all of his teeth, no MAGA hat, and no wedding ring. Just my type.
So, I compared the two gauges. When I turned to rehang the one I didn't want, Mr. Nice Guy was still there. He was chucking a little and said he waited because I might need help again. I smiled and as I thanked him, I gently touched his arm. He did not recoil, in fact he smiled even bigger. I took off.
It wasn't until I was driving home that I realized he had been flirting with me.
Now a normal person would have known what to do. A normal person might have said something like, Do you always come here to rescue short women in distress? or Now, let's hope I know how to use this thing or Do you hire out? I have a lightbulb at home I'm too short to change or even, and maybe most importantly I'll bet your wife really appreciates your help around the house. But no, I just turned and ran.
And that is why I will probably forever remain single. If there really is a man out there for me, he's going to have to hit me on the head with a club and drag me off into the sunset by my hair.
I took a run to the neighborhood Wally World, and headed to the automotive department. There I saw the gauges hanging from hooks way over my head. I was able to swat one down, but the one I wanted to compare it to, eluded me.
And then there he was. A nice man helping me out. He was around my age, full head of silvery hair, built on the stocky (ok, really stocky) side, nicely dressed, neat and clean, all of his teeth, no MAGA hat, and no wedding ring. Just my type.
So, I compared the two gauges. When I turned to rehang the one I didn't want, Mr. Nice Guy was still there. He was chucking a little and said he waited because I might need help again. I smiled and as I thanked him, I gently touched his arm. He did not recoil, in fact he smiled even bigger. I took off.
It wasn't until I was driving home that I realized he had been flirting with me.
Now a normal person would have known what to do. A normal person might have said something like, Do you always come here to rescue short women in distress? or Now, let's hope I know how to use this thing or Do you hire out? I have a lightbulb at home I'm too short to change or even, and maybe most importantly I'll bet your wife really appreciates your help around the house. But no, I just turned and ran.
And that is why I will probably forever remain single. If there really is a man out there for me, he's going to have to hit me on the head with a club and drag me off into the sunset by my hair.
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