Frozen Rituals

I am wearing mismatched pajamas inside out and backwards, I have flushed a handful of ice down the toilet, I considered throwing a handful outside before realizing that doing so while wearing pajamas inside out and backwards might just cross the line of sanity, and I have jumper around while flailing my arms and chanting. I am so very thankful that there was no video camera present to capture these moments for all of eternity or worse, to share them with the entire world via YouTube. So why am I dressed like a toddler who dressed themselves for the very first time, during a winter power outage, doing weird things with ice, and flailing around as if trying to wave down a rescue helicopter in the desert of my own insanity? The reason is quite simple. Tomorrow school is scheduled to start again and the weather forecast has mentioned the S word. However, the s is not supposed to begin until sometime around 5-6 am which is cutting it very damn close to impacting the start of school. It is supposed to begin as flurries or showers, and around here anything steady and consistent will give me another day off. Considering the fact that I seem to have caught some funky combination of mutant, immortal preschool germs that have not given in to my assault of cold medication, herbal remedies, and tylenol for over two weeks and airline germs that have joined forces to kick my ass. I do believe my eyeball has popped out of my forehead and rolled underneath the computer desk, where I will leave it until this blasted headache relents. I have used an entire box of kleenex. I will spare you further details, but now that the germs, they are not so kind. My children, who share nothing without tears and whining and occasional bloodshed have willingly shared this mutant germ with me. Then being trapped inside of a flying school bus provided it with friends and together, they are overthrowing the establishment and organizing a rebellion. I desperately could use a day in bed or on the couch tomorrow instead of chasing wild-beyond-measure, out of control preschoolers who are going to need a lion tamer more than a preschool teacher for the next week or so. Thus, the rituals of the s dance. First, do not speak the s word because it may jinx the entire routine. It is frozen precipitation, it is inclement weather, it is your salvation from school but never say the word. Second, the pajamas are to be worn inside out and backwards and the magic is best if they are mismatched. These rituals are apparently particular to this region because in Michigan there is an entirely different set of steps to be taken. Third, you throw ice outside on your street or driveway to welcome the inclement weather and for some reason that is beyond me you flush some down the toilet. Finally you do a top secret dance that includes a lot of jumping, wild arm movements, and flash backs to the 80s. I barely remember the 80s style of dancing, considering I was a child when they ended and still in elementary school myself, but luckily I am a decent student. Thus the ritual of the s- dance. Some sleep with paper s-flakes under their pillows, or wear lucky socks, or speak mystical words. I am not an experienced enough teacher to have broken in a lucky object or ritual so I go with the standard routine for now. Kids, they believe that they have the market on s-day fun and that those days were created just for them. We allow them to believe this, but really, it is all for the teachers. In the winter we hold our breath every time we see a storm approaching. Then we revert back to our childhood selves and do insane, crazy, superstitious rituals that make us laugh and just might, perhaps, hopefully will bring us the s. Oh the things we never teach you in school!!