Easily Excitable

I have a request. 

It’s a small one, but nonetheless, here does: 

Can we please stop letting April Fools be a thing? Please?

See, this past Tuesday, I came in to work on our last week pre-spring break. 

Thank You, Jesus. 

First and second period? They were bliss: all’s quiet on the western front. 

I did give them a ‘let’s not get in trouble this final week’ chat (we all have our crosses to bear), but that is neither here nor there.

The wheels TRIED to come off in third period. 

The day before, I’d told my tenth graders they could expect a quiz on the following day. Lo and behold, they weren’t paying attention. 

Ms. Kotara left her ‘I’m saying this more than twice’ back in March, so I didn’t repeat myself. Okay, okay, well…I didn’t repeat myself more than twice. 

And as such, we had the following situation transpire on April Fools’- the following day. 

Tuesday: April Fools’ Day

I told my kids they had a quiz: specifically, I told one child, and I had him tell his classmates as I ran to the bathroom in between classes. 

Upon my return, not a single one was studying. 

Just why exactly? 

They were 100% that this quiz was an April Fools’ joke. I was unconcerned because another thing I left in March was my patience. 

I knew that repeating myself would make me want to burn the place to the ground (metaphorically). 

So, I kept on rolling. 

I told them it was not a joke. 

They seemed to think this is exactly what someone who is playing an April Fools’ joke might say. 

Figures. 

They are so uproarious, so sure of themselves, that (naturally) I get tickled, too. 

Only, it wasn’t a small laugh: it was one of those giggles that I get at the worst possible times (read: anytime I need to be serious). I couldn’t stop. 

So, really, their reactions to this ‘joke quiz’ were *somewhat* affirmed by their teacher’s reaction to their reaction. 

I just can’t win. 

I was laughing so hard I thought I might pass out. I got light-headed. 

Nevertheless, we continued on with the quiz. 

We’re all smiling, happy-go-lucky:

• Them, because they just know this is all a big joke.
• Me, because I know that spring break is coming up, and how can you not be in a good mood with that in your future?

As I took it up, I heard whispers of…

 “Watch this!” 

“She’s ‘bout to throw it in the trash!” 

“She ain’t gonna put that in the gradebook. 

Alas…

They watched. 

I didn’t throw it in the trash. 

I did put it in the gradebook. 

Again, April Fools’? We need to stop taking the jokes so seriously: the kids get presumptuous, and their teacher gets tickled. 

All this being said, please put this into your mental Rolodex: 

• If we are ever in a meeting, do not look at me. 
• If a child passes gas in class, do not look at me. 
• If Zayden is ever on stage, do not look at me. 
• If someone ever mispronounces a word, do not look at me. 
• If we’re ever filming a video for an important school project, do not look at me. 
• Lord forbid, if I’m ever speaking publicly (praise Lord, with this accent, that DOES NOT happen often), do not look at me. 
• If we are in church, do not look at me. 

I mean all of this in the kindest way possible: I do not want to be off-putting or unkind, but my giggles are a force that, after 30 years of life, I still cannot contain. 

And here is the thing: 

I do not have a discreet laugh- not in the slightest. 

I have a shoulder-shaking guffaw that threatens the very air I breathe when I try to hold it in. 

I can keep it down for only so long, and by that point, at the very edge of suffocation, I’ll take a breath. 

This breath? It expresses itself as a resounding “EEEE *GIGGLE* EEEEEEE!”

Which is to say, it doesn’t sound like much of a laugh at all. 

I am ashamed of this, in part: 

Yes, my laugh itself, but ALSO my egregious timing.

If I were to tell you about the worst time I’ve ever laughed, you would think I’m a terrible person, so I can’t even touch that moment here. 

You may stop reading my stuff. 

Part of it, to be honest, is that when I get nervous or get caught off guard, my most immediate and natural response is to laugh. 

GOD DON’T MAKE NO MISTAKES, HUNNY!

But I do think I was in the bathroom when He was handing out self-control. 

Laughter, albeit laughter at the RIGHT times, is my favorite thing.

There’s nothing quite like a hard laugh. Luckily for me, I do it often- it kind of comes with the territory of teaching. 

I get in (at least) one belly laugh daily. Granted, some days, I will also have one moment of fury so powerful, I swear, it feels like there is a hole being burnt into my intestines.  

That also comes with the territory. 

Sometimes, you have to laugh to keep from crying. 

Especially when you see the grades from a *perceived-fake-but-actually-real* quiz.

It’s officially spring break, folks, and Mrs. Kotara is ready for a break. 

Have a great weekend!