You Can't Take the Teacher out of the Person...

I am teacher! Hear me roar!

     Definitely, in my case, I am a teacher first and a woman second. I have that Teacher Look, the one that can freeze a culprit in 3 seconds flat. Add to that the Teacher Voice, the one that can carry across a crowded room, or the one that sinks to a whisper to add extra emphasis. Whatever the tone, the statements have  periods on the end of them so that there is no question that I am a teacher. Occasionally I surprise culprits with it.

Freshly hatched!

     Years ago, my sister and I took the kids to the Museum of Science and Industry, (Chicago) which has changed a good deal since I went there as a child. I love that museum, not because of all the wonderful scientific hands-on gadgets. Not because of all the scientific knowledge that you can glean from the experiments you perform. No, it was because of the baby chicks who were hatching from their eggs in the giant incubator.  But I digress. Those baby chicks were so cute. 

There were many exhibits!

     Anyway,when we returned there as adults, I was a little disappointed in one thing. It seemed as though working adults had discovered the value of dropping off their children there, going to work, and coming back to pick them up later. This resulted in children running around and hogging the exhibits. This did not sit well with the teacher in me. 
     We were standing in line quite a while while one little boy played with a race car exhibit. A Japanese family stood in front of us and Cory and I were next in line. The Japanese family had waited quietly and patiently for quite a while, when the 7-8 year old boy decided to play again and not leave the line. 
     I tapped him on the back. "Excuse me, but it is time for someone else to play. You need to go to the back of the line." He gave me the I-can't believe-you-are-talking-to-me-get-out-of-my-face-look and returned to the game. 
     I said "Excuse me!" to the still-patient Japanese family and reached around to grab him by the shirt collar. "Move, it, Bub!" I ordered. "There are other kids here." 
     He left, my sister couldn't believe it and for the rest of the time she checked the area to make sure some gang was not going to jump on me. 

Mailbox Misery

     Yesterday I had an opportunity to use my powers again. We have had complaints of kids vandalizing areas of my neighborhood. One complaint was that a child was flinging open all the mailboxes on our street as he went down the street. 

     So I hid behind a tree till the bus came. 4 Children came off the bus. Sure enough, the cute little guy in the navy backpack started backhanding all the mailboxes. I stepped out, and said, "Leave those mailboxes alone. They are personal property." He seemed stunned at seeing me materialize from the tree. "Now go back and close those mailboxes." He did, and got out of Dodge fast. 
Haven't lost my touch.