Happy Thought: Proposed Visits
Well, school has begun for yet another year. We had a teacher's work day on Monday, followed by the abrupt start of school on Tuesday. The year seems to be off to a good start--I am feeling more positive about my heavy workload and I think I'm going to like (most of) my new crop of sophomores. If nothing else, I began my school year with a good laugh, which just got a continuation today.
Story: On Monday morning, between meetings, I stopped in the office to check my mail and to see about book deliveries. As I was leaving the office, I ran into Jim Sharpe, my favorite AP junior from last year (and in my AP class again this year), who had come into the office to talk to the athletic director. He stopped when he saw me, smart greeting on his lips, no doubt (we had a bantering relationship last year). Then he paused and said, in a kind of sing-song voice, "Don't you look cute with your new hair cut, Mrs. Lemley." (I got my hair cut and layered last week.) I smiled and thanked him, but I couldn't help but wonder how to take the comment. Did he mean it sarcastically--which I wouldn't put past him? Or was he serious--he is a nice kid? Or was he flirting with me--which his voice really seemed to suggest? I decided not to decide, and I went back to my room.
A few minutes later, I left my room to go to the next meeting, which was across the hall. In the hallway, Jim was talking to the athletic director, and three of his friends were waiting for him. Not wanting to be rude, I said, "Hello, gentlemen" and entered the room. I sat down at a desk and settled in for the start of the staff meeting, when one of my coworkers, Megan, told me there were four boys in the hallway who wanted to speak to me. So I went out, wondering what they could need, but figuring it was a question about the AP class, as three of the four of them are in the class this year. Exiting the room, I asked, "What can I do for you gentlemen?" Jim asked if I would proofread a college application essay for him, but it soon became apparent that they had no real need to talk to me. I groaned inwardly once I realized that, since they are high school boys after all, but I made inane small talk for a few minutes before telling them I had to go back because the meeting would be starting. I went back in the room, and Megan closed the door. After the meeting, Megan and I got in her car to meet some coworkers for lunch. As we were leaving, Megan said, "Kevin Eldridge [one of the four boys in the hall] was totally checking you out. He gave you the once over when you went out in the hall to talk to them. And all four boys were watching you when you walked back into the meeting." I laughed, flattered and amused, and that was that.
Until today...
Jim gave me his college application essay to edit for him this morning, and told me he would come during third period, my prep period, to pick it up. Third period, I edited his essay, then realized my hair was driving me nuts and I needed to fix it. So I opened my closet, where my mirror is, brushed my hair out, flipped my head over and spritzed a little hair spray to give my hair some body. As I was finishing, I heard Jim, who had just walked in, say, "Making your hair look pretty?" The tone that he used hit me hard--he was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, flirting with that comment. I just made an offhand remark, slammed the closet door shut, and started talking about the essay. That comment, I decided, was something that was better left unnoticed.
Story: On Monday morning, between meetings, I stopped in the office to check my mail and to see about book deliveries. As I was leaving the office, I ran into Jim Sharpe, my favorite AP junior from last year (and in my AP class again this year), who had come into the office to talk to the athletic director. He stopped when he saw me, smart greeting on his lips, no doubt (we had a bantering relationship last year). Then he paused and said, in a kind of sing-song voice, "Don't you look cute with your new hair cut, Mrs. Lemley." (I got my hair cut and layered last week.) I smiled and thanked him, but I couldn't help but wonder how to take the comment. Did he mean it sarcastically--which I wouldn't put past him? Or was he serious--he is a nice kid? Or was he flirting with me--which his voice really seemed to suggest? I decided not to decide, and I went back to my room.
A few minutes later, I left my room to go to the next meeting, which was across the hall. In the hallway, Jim was talking to the athletic director, and three of his friends were waiting for him. Not wanting to be rude, I said, "Hello, gentlemen" and entered the room. I sat down at a desk and settled in for the start of the staff meeting, when one of my coworkers, Megan, told me there were four boys in the hallway who wanted to speak to me. So I went out, wondering what they could need, but figuring it was a question about the AP class, as three of the four of them are in the class this year. Exiting the room, I asked, "What can I do for you gentlemen?" Jim asked if I would proofread a college application essay for him, but it soon became apparent that they had no real need to talk to me. I groaned inwardly once I realized that, since they are high school boys after all, but I made inane small talk for a few minutes before telling them I had to go back because the meeting would be starting. I went back in the room, and Megan closed the door. After the meeting, Megan and I got in her car to meet some coworkers for lunch. As we were leaving, Megan said, "Kevin Eldridge [one of the four boys in the hall] was totally checking you out. He gave you the once over when you went out in the hall to talk to them. And all four boys were watching you when you walked back into the meeting." I laughed, flattered and amused, and that was that.
Until today...
Jim gave me his college application essay to edit for him this morning, and told me he would come during third period, my prep period, to pick it up. Third period, I edited his essay, then realized my hair was driving me nuts and I needed to fix it. So I opened my closet, where my mirror is, brushed my hair out, flipped my head over and spritzed a little hair spray to give my hair some body. As I was finishing, I heard Jim, who had just walked in, say, "Making your hair look pretty?" The tone that he used hit me hard--he was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, flirting with that comment. I just made an offhand remark, slammed the closet door shut, and started talking about the essay. That comment, I decided, was something that was better left unnoticed.