Growing up with a large extended Italian family has left me with many memories to smile upon. I cannot help but reminisce about the “good old days” by the pool with all my aunts, cousins, and uncles stopping by for a dip. Living in Connecticut, with its short summers. above ground pools were very popular. They were inexpensive enough for the average middle class family to have one pop up in their backyard. They were easy maintenance and above all, a lot of fun on a hot summer day. Looking back, I really cherish those days of splashing around in the backyard pool but more so than the actual swimming, I cherish the memories that have become imbedded within me. One favorite memory is of my Aunt Edie. Aunt Edie would come for a “quick dip” in the afternoon after she spent the morning house cleaning and she always added several adjectives to your name when addressing you. For example, I was “Lori, honey, angel, sweetheart, darling” when she wanted me to do something for her. Aunt Edie carried this trait of addressing her nieces and nephews by name plus adjectives through out our many years of family gatherings. So, it was only natural that some of us picked up that habit. As a middle school teacher, not a day goes by that I don’t ask students to comply. Whether it be with an instruction for an assignment or a direction for an activity, teachers are always making requests of students. One day in class, we were working on an activity of direction following and communicating without using voices. Students need to think outside the box to communicate with one another as to their birth date so that they could line up in chronological order from oldest to youngest. Most students caught on quickly and began using their fingers to symbolize their birth month and day. However, one young man seemed to be having particular difficulties and was using his voice, moving people out of their spots, and just creating havoc. The students were becoming frustrated as some tried to help him, some tried to get him into a spot, and others just wanted to get on with the activity. As a teacher, I was being ever so patient and was trying to guide him toward thinking how he could find his correct spot. His attitude was less than cooperative. Finally, emulating my Aunt Edie, I said, “Anthony, honey, angel, sweetheart, darling, just find your place in line.” This was too much for one other student. Which at this point, Alex, equally frustrated, stepped out of line and said, “Now, Ms. Groves. you know he ain’t any of those.” The class erupted into laughter. Even Anthony was laughing. I could only join them. Well, Aunt Edie, I tried. But, “out of the mouths of babes” as the saying goes. Anthony finally did find a spot in line and a spot in my heart as years later I still recall this memory and with it, fond memories of my Aunt Edie.
LaughLoveLiveLife: A blog about the funnier, lighter side of life along with tips from a middle school teacher.
Last year I began with a blog about a certain pest that every household has experienced. You know, the houseguest that stays for days and you try to lure it toward one of your doors that lead outside. My houseguest finally went on to greener pastures when I got tired of chasing it with a rolled up newspaper. Every time I thought I was going to be successful in ending its visit, it raced toward a door and just as I was about to open the door, had a change of heart and made a quick turn back into the safety of my kitchen. I finally became fed up and pulled out the vacuum. Thank goodness for strong suction. Thank you, Mr. Hoover. Now, on to this year’s conumdrum. If you are familiar with Charlotte, NC, you know that it is often said that the state symbol is the orange traffic cone. After living here for almost seventeen year, I would have to agree. Along with the never ending constructions, I learned very quickly upon our arrival that at certain intersections, there is no rhyme or reason to the street names or the extension of a street name. Enjoying a leisurely drive along Indian Trail Fairview Rd. only leads one to cross over an intersection and find that your street name has changed while you are still on the same road. This would not be such a problem except, about a half mile down the road, the street name can change back to the original name, thus leaving the newcomer utterly confused if they do not realize they are still on the same road from the beginning of their trip. This happens all over the city of Charlotte and with the road construction at an all time maximum, it leads many a motorist into a massive panic attack or state of confusion. Enter my husband. The sweetest, nicest, most helpful guy a neighbor could ask to have. Our neighbor recently fell and broke her leg in her classroom. For Spring break, she decided to travel to visit her family. Her husband had every intention of picking her up at the airport but threw his back out and couldn’t drive. My husband was asked to make the trip to the airport for her 10:30p.m. arrival and quickly agreed to act as chauffeur. Now my husband’s car is two door so thinking ahead, he had the foresight to take my four door car. Unfortunately, neither one of us thought to look at the gas gauge. So here my husband is driving along and he notices the car message says 19 miles to empty. He is about ten minutes from the airport and pulls off to try to find gas as he know there should be several stations in the area. Well, there are certainly several gas stations as he thought but with all the construction, he can’t seem to get to one. Well, he finally gets to a gas station but is so turned around by the construction that he has no idea if the airport is north or south. He figures out that it is South but now he has to find a place to turn around. There are many car dealerships in the area but they are all chained closed without even a turnaround. So he continues his quest driving slowly only to see light behind him. He is greeted by a police officer saying,” Sir, do you realize you are driving 10 miles an hour, 5 miles an hour, then 15 miles.” “Yes,” explains my husband. “I am trying to find a place to turn around to get to the airport but with all the construction I couldn’t figure out which way the airport actually was, north or south.” “I know,” lamented the police officer. “I get turned around all the time with this mess.’ “I don’t even know what to tell you from here.” “Well, “said my husband, “I guess it is time for the GPS.” Now that wasn’t his only run in with the law that night. He makes it to the airport and collects our friend. He is struggling to get her and her walker in the car and airport security comes up to him and says, “Sir, you can’t park here this long.” “I am trying to get the walker in the car along with my buddy’s wife that has a broken leg,” explains my husband. “Sir, you can’t park here this long,” repeats the security guard. Kuddos to my husband for not losing it, which at this point he just lifts his arms in frustration and points toward the car and my poor friend with the broken leg. Sometimes there are just no words!
coffeemugsandchocolatecake 