The school I work in was built in 1963, and like many other elementary schools in the area, does not have air conditioning. For several months, this really isn’t a problem, but during the first two months of school and the last month of school, this usually means several weeks of very uncomfortable and unproductive school days.
This particular week was exceptionally warm. The thermometer at the front of the classroom never went below 82 degrees, and the humidity never dropped below 50 percent. This creates problems when third graders come in from lunch recess, having spent almost a half-hour running in the hot sun.
The bell rang, and it was time to let the third graders in. I quickly walked out into the hallway, and pushed open the exterior door to see over 90 nine and ten year olds, faces bright red, sweaty foreheads and wet hair, sporting shirts soaked completely through with sweat. Not to let an opportunity pass, I announce, “You guys look gross. Come on in.” I put my hand out as they pass, receiving eighty-nine sweaty, sticky high-fives.
And then suddenly OC sneak attacked me, like he does most days. Having spent the time off to the side, waiting to be the last in, he was rubbing his hand on his forehead and through his hair, trying to accumulate as much perspiration as possible, ready to gross Mr. Working out.
Just as I’m ready to close the door, SPLAT! I instantly knew what had happened, and as OC ran into the building, giggling, I shouted after him, “Oh, that’s it! I’m so getting even with you!” I instantly wiped the dripping sweat from my hand, and made a quick beeline to the sink.
To be continued…
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