Current mood:
drained This afternoon I jumped off a cliff. Well, more like slid down the side. Kind of. Maybe I should explain.
After school today, Amanda (one of my students) asked me if I wanted to go sliding. It had been snowing hard for two days straight, and there was a good two feet of fresh snow on the ground. I was sinking in up past my knees just trying to get to school this morning. I have never been in snow that deep. Sliding is their term for sledding. She said she wanted me to go sliding down the "banks." The "banks" are the cliffs right outside teacher housing. The kids slide down the cliff on their rear ends and then climb back up. I told her that I would watch her do it, but there was no way I was doing it myself. When we got to my door, she gave me a sad puppy dog look and asked me to at least put on my snowpants to watch her. I was doomed from that point on. She kept telling me how fun it was and how other teachers had done it and so on and so forth. How could I resist?
We got to the edge of the cliff and I told her that if she went down first and climbed back up, then I might try it. I wanted reassurance that I wasn't going to break my neck or be stranded at the bottom of the cliff. As I told her, I've never slid down a hill on my rear end, let alone the edge of a cliff. She slid down and successfully climbed back up. About that time, 3 of the older boys (4th and 5th graders) showed up and slid down ahead of me. I bit the bullet and slid. Down the side of a cliff covered in a sheet of ice. All that sliding had uncovered the ice that was there before all the recent snow.
Now all that remained was to climb back up. The hard part. Apparently my extra body weight made a world of difference in how easy it was to climb. I couldn't get a foothold and kept sliding back down, mainly because of the recently exposed ice. I tried several different routes up the cliff and couldn't do it. By that time, the older boys had been up and down the cliff several times, and I was none too happy with Amanda. Eventually I did make it up, obviously, but it was with the serious help of those 4th and 5th grade boys. When I had recovered my breath, one of the boys said, "Can we have hot chocolate? I joke." To which I replied, "Yeah, sure. Why not?" So, the three boys and Amanda came over for hot chocolate. After all, they did help me back up - I don't know how I would have done it without them. I had to repay them somehow and since they were content with hot chocolate and marshmallows. . . .
Moral of the story: When an 8-year-old asks you to go sliding down a cliff, just say no. (Seems simplistic, but I've always been a slow learner!)
After school today, Amanda (one of my students) asked me if I wanted to go sliding. It had been snowing hard for two days straight, and there was a good two feet of fresh snow on the ground. I was sinking in up past my knees just trying to get to school this morning. I have never been in snow that deep. Sliding is their term for sledding. She said she wanted me to go sliding down the "banks." The "banks" are the cliffs right outside teacher housing. The kids slide down the cliff on their rear ends and then climb back up. I told her that I would watch her do it, but there was no way I was doing it myself. When we got to my door, she gave me a sad puppy dog look and asked me to at least put on my snowpants to watch her. I was doomed from that point on. She kept telling me how fun it was and how other teachers had done it and so on and so forth. How could I resist?
We got to the edge of the cliff and I told her that if she went down first and climbed back up, then I might try it. I wanted reassurance that I wasn't going to break my neck or be stranded at the bottom of the cliff. As I told her, I've never slid down a hill on my rear end, let alone the edge of a cliff. She slid down and successfully climbed back up. About that time, 3 of the older boys (4th and 5th graders) showed up and slid down ahead of me. I bit the bullet and slid. Down the side of a cliff covered in a sheet of ice. All that sliding had uncovered the ice that was there before all the recent snow.
Now all that remained was to climb back up. The hard part. Apparently my extra body weight made a world of difference in how easy it was to climb. I couldn't get a foothold and kept sliding back down, mainly because of the recently exposed ice. I tried several different routes up the cliff and couldn't do it. By that time, the older boys had been up and down the cliff several times, and I was none too happy with Amanda. Eventually I did make it up, obviously, but it was with the serious help of those 4th and 5th grade boys. When I had recovered my breath, one of the boys said, "Can we have hot chocolate? I joke." To which I replied, "Yeah, sure. Why not?" So, the three boys and Amanda came over for hot chocolate. After all, they did help me back up - I don't know how I would have done it without them. I had to repay them somehow and since they were content with hot chocolate and marshmallows. . . .
Moral of the story: When an 8-year-old asks you to go sliding down a cliff, just say no. (Seems simplistic, but I've always been a slow learner!)
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