Today is The Pony's birthday.
I've got a kickin' Pony essay in me just trying to get out. Kind of like Thunderhead trying to get out of Flicka in the Mary O'Hara classic. It's my journey, not his. I don't want him to be embarrassed by it one day when he accidentally stumbles over it on the internet. So I don't know how fair it is to use his existence for my own selfish purposes. You know. Unlike all the blog posts I've written about him.
This afternoon, I bemoaned the fact that make-up work is driving me crazy. Make that craziER, as some might unkindly point out. I can't get caught up for grading absent work and homebound work and previous-day work because some kids like to relax during the guided practice time and take their assignments home.
The Pony said, "You're sinking into a miasma."
Never one to let a Pony moment go unobserved, I asked, "What exactly IS a miasma, anyway? Do you even know what that means? What kind of 8th-grade kid uses a word like that? 'Help! I need my inhaler! Miasma is acting up again!' Is it like that?" Though I said it with a terribly inauthentic Irish brogue. Just because.
That elicited a chuckle from The Pony. "I've always thought of it as a dark, swirling, vortex."
Yeah. That defines my situation. Precisely.
7 comments:
I certainly didn't use words like miasma when I was in the eighth grade.
Happy Birthday, Pony!
My mom is visiting and I had to ask her what a miasma was. She tried to explain it but I think Pony did a much better job :)
Those boys of yours are both geniuses! Miasma mi ass. I had to look it up: swamp vapor.
Stephen,
Mostly what I remember from 8th grade was a classmate getting her Joy of Sex book with her folded-on book cover that failed to disguise it taken away by the English teacher. Free reading apparently has some limits.
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Becky,
He had a wonderful day, in spite of his industrial technology teacher having the class sing to him, and offering to take them all down the hall to the choir room for another serenade.
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Josh,
Wow! Your mom must be quite a wordsmith. My mom would say, "What?"
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Linda,
I had to look it up as well. I thought it meant a dark atmosphere.
She has a masters in English. Guess which class and only class I got lower than a B+ in. You guessed it English lol
Josh,
Funny how that works out. My mom was a fourth grade teacher. I can still spell rings around her. But she could probably take me in a game of Missouri's state bird, flower, and tree. And forget about planting those Arbor Day seedlings!
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