Last week, we had week away from school for what's called Mid-Winter Break. It falls between the winter holiday and spring breaks. I believe it is, if not unique to our area, at least a special feature of school calendars in the Pacific Northwest. It used to be a yearly luxury, a chance in the midst of our long dreary season for families with the wherewithal to get away to the sun or snow without the crowds, but lately the public schools have switched to alternating annually between a full week off and a four-day weekend. I reckon that means it's on its way out, which would be too bad.
I enjoyed a "staycation," but many of the school's families took advantage. During circle time, B shared with us that she had gone to California with her family, far enough south apparently that there had been sunshine and beach time. She told us in great detail about her hotel.
Later, when I showed up in the kitchen to catch a little conversation with my friends over snack, I found B there.
"Would you like a margarita?"
"Sure."
She carried a paper cup to the water dispenser and filled it for me. Kids do this sort of thing all the time, although they're usually serving me pretend coffee and tea. She was careful, not wanting to spill a drop from the half-full cup as she brought it back. She sat it down on the edge of the table, out of my reach.
"What's your favorite number, Teacher Tom?"
I had worn primarily 4 and 7 during my sporting days so picked one randomly, "Four."
She then took the tongs and one-by-one counted out four cherry tomatoes, "One, two, three, four," dropping each one into the water. Now I understood why she'd not filled the cup with water, which I figured must be standing-in for the booze: she had figured out she needed to leave room for the rest of the ingredients. This was obviously not her first margarita.
She added radish slices, one-by-one, counting, "One, two, three, four." Then she took one more tomato, bit in in half, and squeezed a few drops of juice into my drink. She slid it across the table saying, "Here's your margarita, Teacher Tom. I hope you like it."
I'm not normally a fan of drinking in the middle of the day, but yesterday I made an exception, sipping it, thanking her.
She asked, "Do you feel like you're on vacation?"
"Yes, actually, I do."
We've had these vacations here on the East Coast since the energy crisis of the 70s. They were seen as a way to save fuel during the coldest part of the winter. I think if you tried to end it now there would be a revolt.
ReplyDeleteLOL such a sweetheart.
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