S.O.S.

I got stuck doing outside lunch recess duty yesterday at LM's school. I hate outside lunch recess duty. Especially when it's dumping huge, heavy, wet flakes of snow. The kind that melt immediately upon impact, soaking freezing water into your clothes, hair and skin. Brrrrrr! But the worst part of recess duty? Kids. Yikes, I know-- that sounds horrible.

Actually, I like kids. Really! I like kids when they come in groups of ones, twos or threes. Maybe four...maybe-- if I've had a lot of sleep the night before and there's the promise of chocolate sometime later in the day. But dozens or hundreds of kids at once? They make me feel like Lenny from Of Mice and Men. I'm like a big, dumb, slow oaf surrounded by dozens of overactive puppies. Not a good combination (you know how it ended for poor Lenny, after all). I get all flustered and confused by their incessant chatter and hyperactivity. They come and ask me questions like, "why do you have a nose ring?" and "are you Mrs. So-and-So's sister?" and "can I go inside and call my mom? I want to go home!" Being asked these questions one at a time would be fine, but that's never the case. They come rapid-fire, another being asked before I can answer the previous. And, to top it off I have to, you know...be an authority figure and stuff. I'm no good at that-- and they know it. Kids have an internal radar for auntie-types like me. The other recess supervisors possess an innate ability to come across as drill sergeants. They pretty much have "don't mess with me, there are a thousand different ways I can use this whistle to cause you extreme pain" tattooed across their forehead. While I have, "Hi, I'm Lenny" tattooed on mine. My walkie-talkie is constantly chirping at me with directions.

Walkie-talkie: "Nona, don't let the kids throw snowballs."

Me: "What? Don't let the kids roll snow walls?"

Walkie-talkie: "No. Throw snowballs."

Me: "Okay!" "Hey, kiddos, could you do me an eensy-weensy favor? Please stop throwing snowballs, or I'll have to...uh...write your name down. And I don't wanna have to go to such extremes."

Kids: (sizing me up before running off to a more private area in which to throw snowballs).

Walkie-talkie: "Nona, make that kid put on his coat or he has to stay inside for recess."

Me: "Okay!" "Hey, buddy, aren't you cold out here without a coat?"

Kid: (shakes head).

Me: "Well, even so, you gotta put on that coat. You don't wanna miss recess, do ya?"

Kid: (shakes head).

Me: "Great!"

Kid: (runs off to a more private area in which to not wear his coat).

And while all this is going on, I usually have a Kindergartner attached to my leg, a sixth grader who is asking me if I like to eat pizza, and a fourth grader who is trying to inconspicuously white wash a first grader's face in the snow. Kids are crying, shouting, chattering.... And I am standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights. Immobile. This is the point where I usually just go to my happy place until recess is over.

By the end of the hour, I'm exhausted, and have vowed to spend the rest of my life alone in a mountain cabin, becoming a crazy bear-lady or something like that. (Because bears seem less daunting than children somehow.)

Some of you are asking yourselves, "if she hates it so much, why doesn't Nona just say NO?" And that is an excellent question. It is certainly not because of the stellar pay I receive. Nor is it because secretly I love children and am just writing a snarky post for the heck of it. Nor is it for my son, who refuses to have anything to do with me when I'm out in the field (he's much too busy to bother with Mom). In fact, I've spent a few minutes here racking my brain for any possible explanation, and none has presented itself. So, apparently, I also have "sucker" written on my forehead.

Ah, but look at the time! I have to go get ready, folks. They asked if I could do recess duty again today....

Hellllp!