Wednesday, March 20, 2013

I'm Not Worthy, It Seems

I sometimes think my students wish me ill.

I'm sure it's just a figment of my conspiratorial imagination. They don't blatantly hang buckets of pig blood over the door, or double-dog dare me to stick my tongue to a frozen flagpole.

However...I have noticed that when a student sneezes, several in the classroom call out, "Bless you." When I sneeze, there is silence. Dead silence. It's like E.F. Hutton is about to talk. What's up with that?

Do they want me unblessed? Am I seen as The Devil (not the proprietor of The Devil's Playground, either) and unworthy of a blessing? Am I Elaine's boyfriend, David Puddy, all decked out in red face paint to cheer on the Devils? Do have a blue dress on? Am I going down to Georgia? Am I about to make someone do it?

I can't ask for a blessing, either. That would take away the goodness. I suppose I could shout, "Hey! My heart just stopped for an instant! Does nobody care?" But that's kind of like fishing for a blessing. Shaming them into one. Which I am pretty sure takes away the magic as well.

It's not like I can hold in a sneeze to avoid hearing the hurtful silence. Nobody wants an aged Violet Beauregard exploding all over the white board. Well. Mostly nobody.

I really must try that index finger under the nose trick.

2 comments:

Sioux said...

Maybe they know you are already so full of blessings, you don't need any more.

After all, you have a perfect, oh-so-rewarding job that pays buckets of money. Your "underlings" are so appreciative of the work you do, they shower you with praise and not-from-the-Dollar-Store gifts. Your colleagues are--without exception--delightful people to work with. You have a husband who does more than 50% of the housework. You--oh, I can't keep it up any longer.

You ARE blessed with a great sense of humor, a steel jaw trap of a memory, and the ability to craft endless strings of marvelous phrases. AND you have goats. What more could anyone want?

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
They know I'm full of SOMETHING. Thanks for such nice compliments. Though technically, the goats belong to Farmer H.