The Three Days...

My Diet:

In the Catholic Religion, The Three Days refers to the shortest season in the church year.

In JanineLand, it's the LONGEST and most miserable. (For my guts. They hurt.)

My poor students. Today one of my favorite little students asks me:

"Teacher JaMean, what's wrong? You don't look right."

"Oh, my tummy just hurts," I answer.

"My mom's does, too," he says sadly. "Grandpa told her to drink a fifth and go to bed."

I tried very hard to stifle my laughter. Curiosity got the best of me, but before I could even ask, he offered me his explanation:

"Just get better before all the 5th Graders are gone, ok Teacher Jamean?"

I laughed so hard, despite my guts protesting. I could just see what my special little friend was picturing in his head; Mom and Teacher Jamean drinking Fifth Graders.

5th Graders...Drinkable or not?

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I couldn't drink a fifth on a good day, let alone feed my grumbling guts some nasty evil spirit!

Have I mentioned how much I love my job?

I play a game I made up called "Squishy." (Ever seen Finding Nemo?) I am not sure what happened, or why, but the "Squishy" game stuck. "Squishy" consists of screeching that word at some loud ear-piercing level, while tickling small tummies. (I must have been trying to diffuse a situation?)

Well, one of my other, not-really-verbal special friends came up to me, with his beautiful smile and screeched "Squishy, Squishy, Squishy," while he poked at my jelly belly.

After swallowing whatever had risen (yucky, I know...) I had to look into his green eyes and tell him:

"No Squishy today. Teacher's tummy hurts."

He stopped and looked at me. Then, he screeched it again, and reached for my neck. "No hurt," was all he could say.

I was SO amazed that my small friend, who will beat me up when he's mad at me, actually understood and respected me!

One small victory for Teacher JaMean! I love my job!