Teaching is going fine, now that we’re four weeks deep. But please don’t write and remind me that teachers are underpaid. My little motivational speech class is now being offered at the junior high school, so junior high kids can get high school credit. So I am - for the first time in life - spending half of my day being taught by 12-year-olds. It’s not too bad, actually, but I do have a few challenges, prompting me to invent strategies in the middle of the night that I never needed before. But after four weeks on the job, I’m convinced that there are certain parts of the brain that don’t develop fully until sometime after the age of 12. That’s my theory, and I’m sticking to it …
The flu is going around out here in Texas. I assume it’s the same everywhere. Since when did the flu kick in before October? I’m suffering with a bit of it myself, and the only good I can think of is that it gave me a couple of days this week to stay home and watch Dr. Oz. Well, that, plus I had some extra time at home to conjure up ways to outsmart 12-year-olds …
Speaking of Dr. Oz: The man has it made, doesn’t he? Got his own bus, drives all over the country telling people how food moves through the colon and how to keep from getting fat. Regarding the latter, I could tell them that right here between the three dots, and I don’t need a bus. As far as the colon, I think some things are better left unknown, so I flipped over to Bonanza during that segment. It was a good move. Somebody had framed Little Joe for murder, and it took the smarts of Ben Cartwright to figure out it wasn’t him. Somebody rented a left-handed holster and paint horse and impersonated our Little Joe. Now if Dr. Oz was as smart as Ben, then I’d be impressed …
Little Dewey has started school, pre-school, that is. And he loves it. Next Wednesday is “grandparents” day. Bamaw has already told him she’s coming. “Is Popman comin’?” he asked one day on the phone. Actually, he asked that question every day for a week. “Sorry,” Bamaw said, “Popman has to work. Do you want to talk to him?” she asked, as I sat on the couch listening. “No, thanks,” he said. I said, “Excusssssssse me?” He snapped back, “Tell Popman, ‘Excuse ME!” I can’t outsmart a 4 ½ year old. Wait ‘til he turns 12. …
Poor Audry Lyn - our Miss Pretty Eyes - has gotten a little hair now that she’s 11 months old, but she’s as toothless as ol’ Doosey. But her gums are as red as that dot that races around the ballpark at Minute Maid Park. I don’t think it’ll be long. She still likes to eat, but she has to do it like Grandma Bowen did. She gums it. I sure hope she never takes up dipping like Grandma Bowen did …
By the way, I told that story a while back about Pretty Eyes climbing the steps and sitting up at the top grinning as if she owned the place. Her mom told me to write and tell everybody she’s not a horrible mom, that the little stinker finagled her way around that barrier somehow the minute Mama turned her head. I told her I would tell the world. Of course, we know kids are going to get into things no matter how well you watch them. I once flipped my bike seven times while riding down Monument Hill on Truitt Avenue at a hundred miles an hour. Mama never knew that, else she would have flipped herself. But the Lord is good. I walked away from it without a scratch. …
But I never rode down Monument Hill at a hundred miles an hour again. …
Readers may contact Steven Bowen at steven.bowen@redoakisd.org
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