secret admirers

Last Friday, still cold-ridden and exhausted, I decided to forego my usual breakfast and get my caffiene from one of the many caffeine dispensaries.  I was not looking my best — no makeup, ratty sweatshirt, hair still damp from the shower — but perhaps I looked well enough through a rear-view mirror, because when they handed me my coffee at the drive-thru, they told me that the man in front of me had paid for my coffee.

*bats eyelashes* *flips hair*

That said, I have been receiving admiration from quite another quarter lately.  One of the kids I work with has been regularly drawing pictures of me, and presenting these pictures to me quite proudly.  Now, I know that sounds sweet, and in a way it is, but one thing that they don’t tell you about student art is how humbling it can be.  Because it is very humbling:

 

My friend Tex’s response: “You told your students about Frustrated Panda?”

I should really get those moles on my cheeks checked out.

My friend Lyz: “If she starts singing you songs by the Police, you should worry.”

 

Triumphant generals in Ancient Rome used to parade through the city, lauded and celebrated for their victory.  But always behind them was someone whispering in their ear “Memento mori,”  remember, you are mortal.

So I will enjoy your free coffee, stranger, and I will drink it and imagine for one moment that even with minimal prep, I can still look lovely and fresh-faced and attractive.  But only for a few minutes, until that happy kid thrusts another piece of paper into my hand with a joyous cry of, “I drew another picture of you, teacher!” and I am brought down to earth again.

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