Tales of a 4th Grade Substitute

I subbed last week for 4 days in a 4th grade class at Pebble Creek. I thought I'd share a few stories, and perhaps more importantly the following essay about a winter adventure I had over the break (ok, so I was doing the same assignment that the kids were doing...):

THWUMP!

My eyes popped open. He was here, I knew it. I had been waiting my whole life for this moment, this fulfilling of dreams, this magical minute of fantasy becoming reality. I could hear the jingle of each bell, the braying of each mouth, the pawing of each hoof, the smell of each dropping. I could see them now, four rows of two and one lone oddball out front (the one with the shiny nose). Could this really be happening to me -- poor, silly, insignificant, me? I'd make all the papers, be on national television, probably even appear in the pages of the Guiness Book of World Records.

I could feel the pressure and tension of the roof supports as they bent and strained under the intense weight of the sleigh. At any moment they might collapse and I could be crushed to death -- a victim in my own bed, a casualty unable to recount the glorious events unfolding just feet above my head.

My mind was spinning with uncertainty. Should I get up, tip-toe into the living room, and watch the whole thing from a distance? Should I crawl out the window with my camera and snap a picture of the menagerie on my roof? At least then I'd have tangible ecidence to show all of the non-believers who would certainly doubt the validity of my account.

Ah, the perils of a soon-to-be celebrity. Suddenly I felt for Oprah, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Celine Dion, and all those other thousands of famous people who could never escape the spotlight. My life would soon be the same -- a non-stop whirlwind tour of V.I.P. events and publicity stunts.

But enough of this! Time was fleeting, it had been at least fifteen seconds since I heard the first thump and with all of those houses to visit, they couldn't stay long. A plan of action had to be decided upon and had to be decided on immediately. I figured my best chance of escape without detection would be through the window. And with my camera, it would be the most likely way to capture affirmation of the night for posterity.

I crept to the window, ready to roll up the shade.

Carefully...tug...

Carefully...tug...tug...

THWACK...thump.thump.thump.thump.

GREAT! I let it go! The whole block would probably be awake now, I would no longer be the sole observer of these events. My chance at fame and fortune was gone in a lousy roll of the shade. Nevertheless, I continued. What else was I to do?

I gingerly unlocked and ever-so-slowly raised my window. To the outside world I must have looked like some sort backwards cat-burglar, but I didn't care. I was about to make history. I slid out the window and landed on the snow-dusted ground below. I slithered away from the house, camera in hand. I stopped, ready to spin and snap the picture, all in one swift motion. I counted to myself, half to master the timing, and half to try to calm my shaky nerves.

1...2...3.

I spun around with all the grace of a prima ballerina and snapped the most perfect picture:

A picture of my neighbor's fourteen-year-old son stealing the christmas lights off of my roof!!?


that's all.