You can almost taste your freedom and I’m in a total panic.
Not even one whole day left and I ponder my life after 12:30pm.
I mean, why did I have children in the first place?
They’re about to be all mine for two whole weeks and I didn’t even get you a present.
Would you be okay if I send in a crumpled $20?
I mean, I know it’s tacky as Hell, but I’m just not creative.
I think you’re worth at least a mortgage payment, quite truthfully.
I don’t how you do it.
Go ahead and laugh at me, but I used to be one of those who wistfully longed for a “teacher schedule.” Jesus, take the wheel, because I know now.
I watch y’all haulin’ ass into school most mornings, leaving just as I am packing lunches.
You stay late, too, and it gets dark so early that I bet you feel like some sort of crazed vampire.
And, those days of endless rain and indoor recess.
I am in awe.
Because I adore you, I will not complain about my kids getting out of school.
Nope, I will only say thank you, a million times over, thank you.
Thank you for loving and hugging and being the friendly smile that greets my people each morning.
Y’all are my heroes.