Saturday, February 23, 2008

Saturdays should be spent at home...

My day actually started well… I left early this morning to provide childcare for an annual conference. Every light turned green as I approached intersections—really…every one. I needed this touch of fate…I’d stopped for coffee and the drivers preceding me must have ordered exotic, complicated drinks. It’s not true that a frantically watched clock doesn’t boil.

At the conference, I was assigned a room, two unfamiliar coworkers and 21 children I didn’t know. Overall, the morning was productive and the kids well-behaved. We colored, cut, watched a puppet show, read books and never stopped handing out food.

Lunch arrived, four very large pizzas disappeared, and we switched back to snacks. I have no idea where all the food went. Maybe I should have checked the kids’ pockets…

Somewhere during the afternoon, the kids remembered their parents…sigh…anarchy began. In self preservation, I dreamed of soaking in a hot tub, possibly followed by a massage. I actually don’t have a hot tub…I contemplated picking one up on the way home.

As I dissolved into a puddle of sheer exhaustion, the conference staff sent in the clowns. I’ve never been so excited to see men in make-up—I’m in love with the conference-planning committee. The kids laughed hysterically at the skits—I wondered if the clowns gave massages.

My final coherent thought was at 2:30 p.m., when the last parent picked up her child. I vaguely remember walking to my car, pouring myself into the front seat and stopping to buy a hot tub. Turns out you need a trailer and more money than I earned today. The sales staff didn’t offer massages either…

1 comment:

The Marathon Man said...

I caught up on your blog last night, and can't remember if I said anything about it. It makes me feel peaceful to read the things you write.