Pop Quiz!

As you probably already know, I am a junior high teacher. What you may not know if you're not part of the educational system is that most teachers act a whole lot like the students they teach. Not out in the real world. In the school world. In faculty meetings, district wide gatherings, etc. Elementary teachers are cute, fun, and find comfort in structure and boundaries. Junior high teachers test boundaries, hate structure, and think they have way more control than they really do. High school teachers are aloof, smart and feel like most meetings are a waste of their time. I say this with love. It is completely true. Schools are having such gatherings all the time this month. Sneak into one. Hide and watch.


That little tidbit of information was to let you know that at the end of the year last year, my principal--God love him--gave us, his junior high campus (see above descriptors), assigned summer reading.

No, I'm not kidding.

You should've been in the office as each teacher filed into his office to check out for the summer. It went something like this...

Teacher walks into office. Big smiles all around.
Principal: All done?
Teacher: Yep! Here's my check list!
Principal: Great! Here's a little book I want you to read over the summer. It's really good!
Teacher: Huh? Book? Oh, uh, okay. Thanks. Have a great summer.
Principal: You too!
Teacher leaves office, looks at next person in line and whispers, "Summer reading? SUMMER READING?!! Is he crazy???"

It was hilarious. Except I work for him too, so I got the book. It's called The Anatomy of Peace. And actually, being the "teacher pleaser" that I still apparently am, I started the book at the very beginning of summer. I'm still not done, but I'm close. (And before you start panicking thinking your child might possibly receive instruction from a complete idiot, I have actually read a couple of other books that I actually wanted to read too) The fact is, it's not a quick, easy read. But it really is a good book. It basically takes the Golden Rule and breaks it down, so that we might see why we react certain ways to certain people in certain situations. It's not biblical or particularly Christian in nature. But Christians will do well to read it and think about it. It's all about your heart and how you view other people. It makes you think. I think about it when I want to get miffed at my husband for something. I think about it when I interact with Jackson. But mostly I think about it when I interact with strangers.

Today, I'm pretty sure God was giving me a pop quiz. The "Let's See if Angie has Learned Anything from her Summer Reading" Quiz.

Mom and I went to Tyler for lunch and a little shopping, and on our way out we stopped at Sonic (it was Happy Hour, after all). Jackson was in the back seat wanting to watch Steve not Joe on the DVD, so I pulled into the parking spot rather than driving through. I figured we could order, I could get Jackson's DVD dilemma remedied, and be on our merry way.

God: Not so fast there, sister. Let me introduce you to Marlon.

When I pushed the button, Marlon answered. I ordered a large cherry limeade, a large cranberry limeade, and an ice cream dish filled only halfway (for the little cherub in the back seat who gleefully squealed "Ice Keem!!" when we pulled in). Marlon repeated my order back word for word. Perfect.

I got Steve going on the DVD player. No problem. Marlon will be out shortly.

Or not. What will you do now?

Five minutes later, Marlon walks out the door. I watch our drinks fall over at least three times before he made it five feet. Marlon is apparently new. When he gets about ten feet from the car, I realize the drinks are not the same size. He hands me the ice cream, and I tell him--politely, I promise--that we ordered two larges. He hands me the cherry limeade, which was the large drink, and tries to hand me the other drink. I tell him again that we ordered two larges. He stares at me, not understanding. It is the heat, I'm sure. I realize that he thinks we ordered three drinks. I tell him no, we only ordered two, and they were both large and can I have a spoon for the ice cream please?

He doesn't have a spoon. He'll go get my drink and a spoon. He's very sorry. He'll be back quickly.

But what if he's not? Then what? How will you handle that?

Another five minutes later, Marlon comes back. He has a large drink in his hand. Hooray! That will be $4.53 he says. I point out that we only ordered two drinks and an ice cream, and it's happy hour. $2.50, max. Again, he stares at me. Again, he apologizes.

Again, he has forgotten the spoon. And a straw. He'll be right back. Grrr. What's this guy's problem??

Yes. What is his problem? Do you care?

A couple of minutes later, he comes back. Empty handed. I forgot the spoon again! I am so sorry, he says. I stare at him. I hold up the now melted ice cream. This was for my son I say. Now it's melted. What am I supposed to do with it now? (If I could ever teach Jackson to cry on demand, this would've been a great time to utilize that. ;) ) He offers to remake it and apologizes again. I am losing patience.

Why? You've had a great day in Tyler with family. You are enjoying your last fleeting moments of summer. Why NOT be patient?

Marlon returns, fresh ice cream in hand. I can hear him saying I'm sorry ten feet away. I can tell he really is. I was a little nervous that I was about to make him cry. Please, Marlon, please don't cry.

He only charges me $1.10. Still apologizing. But not crying, thank goodness.

Marlon tells me this is his first day. He's never car hopped before. He doesn't even have the little apron thingy (he didn't tell me that. I noticed it the second time he forgot the spoon). He didn't know he would have to take the order, prepare the order AND take out the order. I didn't know that either. I tip him, because I worry the poor guy might not get another one for the rest of the day. I smile at him, tell him it's fine and I hope his day gets better. And I meant it.

Did I pass?

What do YOU think?

Sometimes the hardest thing in the world for me to do is not lose patience. I very rarely go off on people, but that doesn't stop me from trashing them mentally. The thing I've noticed about that is while it keeps me really busy, it doesn't make me feel one bit better. Usually I just get more angry. More frustrated.

Today, yes, I still thought a lot about whole Marlon debacle. But I didn't get more angry, so I'm thinking that's progress. I had to laugh. Poor guy. I hope they gave him an apron.