Keeping yourself Anonymous...

A follower posted last week about her concern for my job, as I post so many details about my work on my blog.  I understand that people have different levels of comfort with how much parents, administrators, and the general public know about them.  I mean, not even a hundred years ago I would have broken practically every rule in the teaching handbook, as seen in the 1915 Rules for Teachers.  I know that my administrators trust my ability to teach, to get kids to meet the standards, and I make my families very happy (yes, it takes some bribery, but they are happy!) I also know the value of anonymity.

We're in the middle of snowstorm season around here, and with two feet of snow on the ground, and the power out in much of the county- school was canceled yesterday! Hooray! Then, they canceled school today! Double-Hooray!  As you know, I love my job, I love teaching, and I love students.  But I love days off more.

So, what do you do on a snow day?  You make hot toddies, get drunk and make naked snow angels! (I'm kidding about the naked snow angels!)

I wish that had been my day.  It was actually a lot worse. So, yesterday  I put on my boots, hat, fleece everything, scarf, coat, and gloves.  I put matching doggie parkas on Screwy and Chewy and took them out for a walk.  I was slomping along my front walk in the deep, deep snow, with the dogs hopping along and sniffing around, and I was trying to keep my hot toddy from slipping out of my gloved hands and into the snow.  That would be such a waste of good whiskey.

Then, I turned my head and see three of my little nose-pickers flying down the hill on sleds.  They slid to a stop near my feet. "Ms. Kaplan! Ms. Kaplan!" Snot running down their chins, they hugged me, getting mucus all over my very expensive DKNY down jacket. "You live here!?!" they cried in disbelief.

The kids were so happy to see me. Fortunately, my scarf hid my grimace. All I wanted was to let the dogs shit and pee quickly so I could get back into the warmth of my home.

"Watch us sled! Watch us sled!" My toes froze as I watched them hike the nearby hill and slide down again.

"You are awesome sledders" I told them, wishing they'd climb back up that hill and not come back, "My doggies need to go on their walk now.  Bye-bye."

"Can we help?" They asked, in innocent joy. "Sure." Sip-sip-sip. I was careful not to let my hot toddy spill as I handed the leashes over to the kids.  We walked and talked, and they made guesses as to when we'd be back in school, and if we'd still have a math test on Friday. I did my usual response, "maybe" which keeps their critical thinking skills in check.

We rounded the block back to my house, and I told them their moms and dads are probably wondering where they are, so they better hurry home.  With laughter and giggles, they tromped off through the snow, back to their homes.  What lovely little children. It's sure good to be loved.

Early this morning, I'm waiting for the school closure report come in and it dawns on me. THEY KNOW WHERE I LIVE!  This is my number one teaching rule. NEVER LET THEM KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE! Immediately, I jump on craigslist and start perusing the rental properties, because I realize I will only be able to stay here so long before the damage occurs. I'm totally immersed in my search, and falling in love with a cottage style house about six miles away when...

Bzzzz.... I hear my doorbell.  Whatthefuck? Who would be ringing my doorbell at 8:00 in the morning? Chewy and Screwy start going crazy, yelping at the door.  I'm nearly naked, so I throw on my robe, and get to the door.

Standing before me, clad in head to toe snow gear are my three little rodents.

"Hi Ms. Kaplan! Can we play with your doggies?" Ohshitohshitohshit!   This is the clincher. Do I say yes and let them in, or send the dogs out? Do I say no and sound like a bitch?  Letting them in my house is a very bad idea (do you remember the stories they told in your Educational Law class?) Sending the dogs out seems like a bad idea, considering their pension for humping and nipping at people.

"I wish I could, but we're staying in for awhile. It's cold and I'm not ready to go outside."

"Okay! Bye Ms. Kaplan! We love you! See you later!"

"By kiddos."

I closed the door and sunk down to the floor.  The worst thing possible has happened.  I no longer have anonymity.  There is no sanctity in my home.  I can no longer have sex in the backyard.  I can no longer have margarita parties on the lawn.  Forever more, three little shitheads will be coming by, bringing me flowers they pick, trying to sell me cookies, or wrapping paper, or asking me to buy lemonade from their stands.

I've contacted the owner of that cottage.  We're moving at the end of the month!