That Crazy Concerto

An old style alarm clock.

Image via Wikipedia

The morning after my Ladies Night at the symphony, I awoke to find the sunlight already streaming through my bedroom window.  “That’s funny,” I thought, “it’s never this light out when I wake up.  It must be spring!”

This thought was followed, of course, by a rapid succession of four-letter words.  “Sh*t, sh*t, SH*T!  It is not spring.  And it’s never this light when I wake up because I never wake up this LATE!”

I fumbled for my cell phone, which, ever since my failed attempt to purchase a new battery for my solar powered watch several months ago has performed the double duty of my alarm and primary timepiece.  Having exhausted its battery the night before, however, my fancy new Droid wasn’t terribly helpful.

I made a beeline for my desk and pounded on my laptop, all the while shouting, “What time is it?  What time is it?  What time is it?”  Of course, being that I’m still single there was no one there to answer me and as I waited for the screen to power up, I began to panic: Who would be there to lead my preschoolers in their daily rendition of The Tummy Tango if I’d overslept?  Could I get dressed, packed and out the door in ten minutes?  Five minutes?  Three if I really had to?

I decided that if I rode to work in my pajamas and then changed into the spare set of “dance teacher clothes” stored in my cabinet when I got there, I’d just make it.  Granted, my hair would be a mess, and my students would lose no time in telling me my hair was a mess, but it might be worth a shot.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to put this plan into action because lo and behold, according to my computer screen, it was only 7:30.

Thank God!

Still, it’s amazing what difference half an hour can make in terms of natural sunlight.

Now, what was I supposed to be writing about today?  Oh yeah, now I remember: it’s Wednesday, and because Wednesday starts with the letter “w” I’ve decided to start writing about… well, about writing on Wednesdays.

By this logic, when I first started teaching at The Preschool, I decided that Tuesdays would be “tunnel day” but sometimes the kids are so wound up that we end up having “Tunnel Tuesday” and “Tunnel Thursday” plus the occasional “Tunnel Monday,” “Tunnel Wednesday” and—you guessed it— “Tunnel Friday.”  It’s amazing how quickly my more unruly students manage to get their acts together when faced with the added incentive of crawling through a spring loaded nylon tube.

But I digress—so much so that I’m going to have to postpone “Writing Wednesday” to “Writing Thursday” now and try to come up with a properly alliterative synonym for writing in the mean time.  Any suggestions?

6 Responses to “That Crazy Concerto”

  1. sarahnsh

    Tummy Thursday, that little dance the kids love, or Tell All Thursday, Titiliating Thursday, etc. I hate when I sleep in and I have to go to work, I totally freak out and it’s like one of my worst case scenarios!

    Reply
  2. Your Landlord

    OOOH, I like “Tell All Thursday”…I remember kids telling me stuff about their parents (unknowingly) spilling the “dirt” on them. “My daddy needs to lose weight” 🙂

    Reply
    • Kat Richter

      Agreed, I like Tell All Thursday, but because I like my job this time around, I’m terrified of getting fired for blogging about my kids. I’ll have to work out a way to do it without getting myself in trouble…

      Reply
  3. Laurie Block Spigel

    It is not alliterative to have a Tell All Thursday. You must have a Thoroughly Thespian Thursday, or a Theatrical Thirteenth Thursday , or a Thumping, Thrumming Thundering Thursday, or a any ole Thilly Thumpthing Thursday!

    Alliteration is about the sound, not the letter!

    Lovingly,

    Literary Laurie

    Reply

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