Yup, when you are talking Christmas gifts for the teacher! Is Santa being too good some teachers? Click to read the
article in today's Houston Chronicle. My Dad was a high school English and History teacher, and the only gift I could remember him getting was a jar of yummy homemade caramels because the family couldn't afford to pay for tutoring. The boy going from a 3rd grade reading level to attaining a high school reading level at the end of the year was payment in full for my Dad. And back then, teachers didn't get paid diddly-squat and not during the summer months either. He truly had the love and the gift for teaching, if not recognized monetarily. Even at my daughter's school, collections for store gift cards and American Express cards in the three figures are the norm. My Dad would have flipped.
And speaking of gifts (and reading skills), my postal carrier shouldn't be expecting something special. The house two streets over with the same house number is for sale and vacant, and I've been getting their mail occasionally. And then thinking, if
I'm getting Mr. X's mail, some of my mail could be in
his box. I realize my carrier probably isn't thrilled with our route and has to work extra hard, as we always get LOTS of mail, every postal day, some of it not even ours. So I happen to see her as she is putting up the mail and I say, "Hello!" I receive a scowl in return. I get my mail and head back towards the car and then think hey, this may be a good opportunity to let her know Mr. X's house is vacant and I've been getting his mail and was hoping my mail wasn't sitting in his box. "Oh, it's not,' she says, 'I know WHO YOU ARE!!!" But that's not said in a nice way. Yikes! She then lays into me about her schedule, and when did I get his mail, she was off last week, she doesn't work Mondays (?), yack, yack, yack, yack, yack. I start back stepping towards my car and she's still blabbing. The last thing I want to do is piss off the postal carrier, then we'll never get our Washington Post Weekly Edition even in the same month it's published, so I just say "Uh, Merry Christmas" and leave.
Yup, when you are talking Christmas gifts for the teacher! Is Santa being too good some teachers? Click to read the article in today's Houston Chronicle. My Dad was a high school English and History teacher, and the only gift I could remember him getting was a jar of yummy homemade caramels because the family couldn't afford to pay for tutoring. The boy going from a 3rd grade reading level to attaining a high school reading level at the end of the year was payment in full for my Dad. And back then, teachers didn't get paid diddly-squat and not during the summer months either. He truly had the love and the gift for teaching, if not recognized monetarily. Even at my daughter's school, collections for store gift cards and American Express cards in the three figures are the norm. My Dad would have flipped. 
And speaking of gifts (and reading skills), my postal carrier shouldn't be expecting something special. The house two streets over with the same house number is for sale and vacant, and I've been getting their mail occasionally. And then thinking, if I'm getting Mr. X's mail, some of my mail could be in his box. I realize my carrier probably isn't thrilled with our route and has to work extra hard, as we always get LOTS of mail, every postal day, some of it not even ours. So I happen to see her as she is putting up the mail and I say, "Hello!" I receive a scowl in return. I get my mail and head back towards the car and then think hey, this may be a good opportunity to let her know Mr. X's house is vacant and I've been getting his mail and was hoping my mail wasn't sitting in his box. "Oh, it's not,' she says, 'I know WHO YOU ARE!!!" But that's not said in a nice way. Yikes! She then lays into me about her schedule, and when did I get his mail, she was off last week, she doesn't work Mondays (?), yack, yack, yack, yack, yack. I start back stepping towards my car and she's still blabbing. The last thing I want to do is piss off the postal carrier, then we'll never get our Washington Post Weekly Edition even in the same month it's published, so I just say "Uh, Merry Christmas" and leave.
No comments:
Post a Comment