Sometimes, when the classroom is literally pulsing with noise and no one is listening to me and children are trying to tear down the school and I’ve taken a few sneezes to the face, teaching seems too overwhelming and I become insanely envious of people with office jobs, who get to sit at their sterile desks and check Facebook all day long.
However, more often than not, I have moments when I am convinced I am doing the best job on Earth, like when I’m sitting on warm grass at 2:15 pm on a gorgeous May day in Los Angeles, eating popcorn out of a giant serving bowl, surrounded by children who are laughing hysterically like tiny, adorable, well-meaning hyenas.
Today was one of those days. We had our class Sports Day, during which the kids (and their parent coaches) ran various relays and participated in potato sack races and crab-crawled around and yelled things like, “Oh my God, POPSIBALS!” when, at the end of the last race, a mom brought out Popsicles.
Because I am a terrible influence who stirs up trouble, and because I happen to work with a few women who are on my own wicked and immature level, we (the adults) ended up using water balloons left over from a balloon toss to stage a massive, impromptu water fight, which drenched children and teachers alike. Kids took off their soaking shoes, and filled watering cans and sandbox buckets to the brim before dumping them over their own heads. It was chaos. It was insanity. It was absolute joy.
I got totally destroyed, although you can’t really tell, because I couldn’t take a picture of the back of my neck, where a fellow teacher burst two giant balloons:
Later in the day, as I sat in the grass in my still-damp jeans and watched children consume popcorn by the handful, a girl in my class looked at me with pride in her eyes and said, “Watch how fast I can eat this cheese!” before gobbling up an entire stick of mozzarella.
The best job on Earth, people.