When life doesn’t go my way, I try not to fall apart. Sometimes my efforts end up working. Sometimes they don’t. Let’s talk about a “don’t” time. One day, I desperately needed a Dr. Pepper. “Desperately” in this case, means, “I have to
teach 22 first graders who are done with Valentine’s Day, hyped up on sugar,
and just generally out of control; getting three hours of sleep leaves me slightly
crabby (and by slightly crabby I mean something between Ursula the Sea Witch
and the Queen of Hearts).”
My father taught me from a very early age that the answer to
this type of problem (slight crabbiness from lack of sleep) is ALWAYS caffeine
and NEVER an earlier bedtime. Therefore,
I made my way to the pop machine in the teachers’ lounge. As I pulled some spare change out of my coat
pocket, I realized something. Something
terrible. I did NOT have the necessary
60 cents to purchase a Dr. Pepper from the lifesaving pop machine in the
teachers’ lounge.
I had a quarter, a dime, and a nickel. Now, most of my first graders wouldn’t
understand that… so I will explain to you like I would explain to them, just for kicks and giggles. A quarter is 25. A dime is ten. A nickel is five. *Cue confused little children asking “Why is
the dime smaller, but worth more?” My
answer is usually noncommittal and has to do with monkeys or some other silly
animal being in charge of our monetary system.*
Now that we’ve cleared up that confusion, it is time for our daily math
lesson, in which we realize that 25+10+5 is 40.
40 is less than 60. I needed 20
more cents. That is two more dimes, or
four more nickels, or a quarter minus a nickel or SOMETHING.
My sleep-deprived, and Dr. Pepper craving brain told me that
desperate times, well, they called for desperate measures. I ran back to my classroom, in which I
found my purse, in which I found a variety of incredibly worthless objects. Three candy canes leftover from Christmas, a
pack of gum, my wallet (which only contained pennies not accepted by the soda
machine), and a pack of crayons, and possibly some chocolate, which was possibly consumed during the search for money. It just
so happened that one of my students walked into the room as I dumped the entire
contents of my purse onto the table. The
following conversation happened while I continued looking for any worthwhile
pieces of money:
“What are you doing, Miss Hansen?”
“Ummmm, looking for something.”
“What?”
“Money.”
“Why?”
“So I can get a Dr. Pepper.”
“Why?”
“So I’m not cranky.”
“Why?”
“Do you want me to be cranky? AHA!!!!” (I had found two dimes!!!)
“No.”
“Then clean up this mess while I go get a Dr. Pepper.”
“Ok.”
My faithful student cleaned up my mess. And life went on. I
was still slightly crabby for the rest of the day, but I had a Dr. Pepper,
which is always my constant companion through trials and struggles of all sizes
and proportions.
