I cannot be the only one....whose family has an allergic reaction to Monday mornings, although our allergies aren't sniffy noses or red eyes, rather they manifest themselves as moans, groans, and stomach aches that appear mysteriously. In the midst of all this Monday morning agony there are shoes and socks to find, lunch boxes and juice boxes to pack, and car keys forgotten on the hook by the door all keeping us from getting a move on.
|The dreaded substitute (thru Sonny Boy's eyes)|
This particular Monday was going as rough as any in the past, but between yawns and rubbing of sleepy eyes, I managed to get us to the elementary school with three minutes to spare before the morning bell rang. We pledged our allegiance to the flag while doing our best to keep ourselves warm in the brisk 60 degree fall weather of Southern California, when a new terror struck: the substitute teacher. My Sonny Boy, and many of his kindergartner classmates, have not yet learned the joy of a substitute teacher and their apprehension was palpable. I told my boy to do his best to go with the flow, but going with the flow is not always easy for a kid who can be wound tightly at times, and I saw the worry growing in his eyes when we entered the classroom from the front instead of the back door (can you imagine the terror). To read the rest of our harrowing tale of the Monday Substitute, please visit my blog here: I Cannot Be The Only One...