The weather is finally cold. Misty, wet and occasionally the faint deceptive smell of snow is in the air. The sidewalks are covered with wet yellow and grey leaves. And for the 50th time this morning I say, "WALK! The sidewalk is slippery." I love it when weather has changed. Gone are the hot dry days of summer. Finally I can put on a jacket, a pair of gloves, my felt "almost cowboy hat", and even a scarf.(It is a manly grey scarf) And best of all I have the pleasure to gently tell my most beloved six year old student, on his daily trek to the office to tell the Vice Principal how his day went, "Walk." Then as soon as he believes I am not paying attention I watch him sprint, try to make the turn and be thrown to the ground by a simple layer of fallen leaves covered in a blanket of cold wet dew. Ah... Simple pleasures.
I call out, as my first aid training and conscience demand, "Are you ok?!" "Yeah, but I can't get up", he slowly says. I lift him to his feet and then off he skips. Lesson learned? No, but six year olds are only six for a year. Live a little.
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