With an impending job change on the horizon (don't ask don't jinx), I've become extremely conscious of the fact that my days with 6 and 7 year olds are numbered. Most days, I get down and PAR-TAY! my way out that hallway all the way to the car - breaking into a full on Marion Jones sprint as I head towards freedom and adult beverages, but there are some days that I watch each child wistfully, reluctant to head back to an empty classroom.

The crazy thing is, you can't predict these days. Working with kids is possibly the most frustrating job I've ever had. There are days (like today, even) when I wanted to duct tape all their mouths, give them all boxing gloves, and let them beat on each other and tattle tale each other to death while I kick my feet up and eat ice cream.

Then, just when I think that I can't take any more and that I will march myself right down to that office and quit because I am only a HUMAN!, DAMMIT!, and I cannot take anymore of this fucking lunacy what with the mouths on these children and the gossiping of my supposedly "adult colleagues", and the requirements for endless tests and paperwork and the angry parents who are convinced that THEIR child is a genius and that I am just teaching them the wrong way - CAN'T A GIRL JUST GET A DAMN BREAK UP IN HERE? ONCE AN EON WOULD BE NICE - days like today happen.

I was standing in line at the end of the day, holding Nyree's hand, half-following, half-leading the students to the bus.

"Mrs. TCWH?" he says, stopping to look at me, all squinty eyed with the wind and the sun.

"What's that?" I answer, not really listening - or asking, because I have 20 other children all calling my name with IMMEDIATE needs.

"Will you marry me?"

I laugh, shocked into pausing, stopping to remember how each of my students is an individual. And just HOW MUCH I am capable of influencing them. When you spend the day as a 1st grade teacher, it is often a fleeting concept.

"Oh honey! I'm already married!" I laugh, a little sad that I don't even remember the name of my first grade teacher.

"Mrs. TCWH!" he admonishes, "I'm just shoking (he makes his 'j's soft) you! I'm only a little kid!" gently reminding me that they are ALL, in fact, little kids - and not the little adults that I'm trying to guide them to be.

"You're right honey, you're right. Walk me to the bus, okay?" I ask, as we head down towards the building.

Right as I get ready to put him on the bus, he pulls me toward him, smiling up into my face as he says my name. I always make sure they know how much I love them before they get on the bus - expecting a hug, I put my arms out, only to have him step back and say, "Let me tell you a secret."

I bend down, expecting him to tell me his plans about what we will do with Mark Washington and Jim Hardy (twin plastic lizards he pruchased at the school store this morning, who I helped him name and differentiate - hello sharpie! -) tomorrow during free time.

He moves my hair, and I turn my face sideways - ready to listen to whatever he has to say. But this secret has no words. He darts forward quickly and kisses my cheek as he squeezes my hand.

I smile at him, standing silently as I watch him get on the bus.

"See you tomorrow!" he reminds me, waving as he steps up, completely unaware how much this exchange has turned my day. Suddenly he looks so small.

"I can't wait!" I wink at him, watching him disappear down the aisle.

This time I really mean it.