Braveheart

My daughter and her soon to be husband have decided that their next adventure should be teaching English in South Korea.

I stand in awe of their bravery.  

They could give a hoot about the fact that South Korea is within spitting distance of North Korea.  With that annoying leader Kim Jong Un and his hobby of firing missiles in an attempt to perfect his country's nuclear missile technology.

Kimmy called to share the news that she and Luke have an upcoming SKYPE interview for teaching positions at a South Korean school.

I offered to help them prepare for the interviews, but she declined my help.  I reminded her that I've been interviewing job candidates for decades and that I could be of great assistance.

But she and Luke don't need my help.  

Sigh.

(I always turned off the beater.)

Just in case they change their minds, I've pulled together some recommended answers to a few potential interview questions.

Q. How do you handle a disruptive child?
A. I would spank the brat and hang him from the ceiling by his shoelaces.  If he had been exceptionally naughty, we would play pinata.

Q. What is your approach for a classroom of children with different abilities?
A. I would make the smarter kids teach the dumb ones while I snort cocaine.

Q. What are your strengths as a teacher?
A. Yes.

Q. What are your weaknesses?
A. I have no weaknesses.  Except my fingers are too short.

Q. Can you prepare your own curriculum?
A. Yes.  I am actually a very good cook.  And curry is one of my favorite ingredients.  Curry and vodka.

Q. What challenge have you faced in the past and how did you overcome it?
A. OMG!  One time I was doing laundry and I accidentally let a Kleenex in the pocket of my jeans and it got all over my expensive Old Navy t-shirt.  There was white fuzz everywhere!  I had to use packing tape to get it off.

Although Kimmy was not interested in my recommended interview responses, I was able to provide one interview tip before she hung up.

"What is it, Mom?" she asked.

"Since you insist," I said.  "Remember to have a few drinks before the interview.  Or more than a few.  It will relax you."

X Marks the Spot

I was just about done packing when I heard Dave shouting.

"What the heck is this?" he bellowed from the kitchen.

"What the heck is what?" I responded helpfully.

I was double checking my list in the bedroom.  Toothpaste.  Check.  Toothbrush.  Check.

"This," he repeated, at an even louder decibel.  Which I thought impossible.

"I don't know," I said.  Deodorant.  Check.  Corkscrew.  Check.

"What the hell????" he said.

Which, in my opinion, did not require an answer.  Puzzle book.  Check.

Dave entered the bedroom, holing up his golf shirt.  It had a big white X on it.

I recognized that big white X.

"What is this?" he repeated.

"An X," I said, stating the obvious.  Then, taking an aggressive stance, "Did you put your golf shirt on top of my Bills shirt?"

"I put it on the kitchen counter," he said.

"And apparently, right on top of my Bills shirt!!!!!"  I ran into the kitchen to assess the damage. My Bills shirt was relatively intact.  

Thank God.

I explained to Dave that the X came from white fabric paint.   I had crossed out the "Rex" on my End the Hex Rex Bills shirt with white fabric paint, since Rex Ryan was no longer the Buffalo Bills coach.

It made perfect sense.

But Dave thought it was MY fault that he put his golf shirt atop my Bills shirt.

We had a healthy debate in terms of who was more irresponsible: me for putting my Bills shirt with wet fabric paint on top of the kitchen counter to dry, or him for putting his golf shirt on top of the Bills shirt with the wet fabric paint.

I hadn't planned on taking my Bills shirt to Arizona because the paint was too wet.  Which was no longer the case.  

Bills shirt.  Check.

Toss, Give Away, or Keep

I took my time packing up my office.  Just like on that Hoarders TV show, I put stuff into 1 of 3 piles: toss, give away, or keep.

I had a lot of stuff.  I'd been working full-time since 1980. 

That's 37 years.

Of stuff.

Of course, most of the stuff was work related.  Books.  Reports.  Project files.  Toss, toss, toss.

But I also uncovered treasure.  Reminding me of my life outside of work.  Like this letter:

How funny that the same little girl who was terrified of the Easter Bunny became a U.S. Marine.

Then there's this, from a visit Kimmy made to my office with her stuffed bear, Amelia.  We may or may not have been playing with the copy machine that day.

Okay.  We were playing.  We did not get got carried away.

I had to shut my door to compose myself when I came upon the drawing 3-year old Kimmy made after I experienced a painful pregnancy loss.  Talk about a stairway to heaven.

 

  Linda had some awesome artwork,too.

I got a chuckle out the the fact that 2 1/2 year old Kimmy was not quite there in terms of looking for a lost shoe instead of crying.

When I uncovered that letter to the Easter Bunny I texted a photo of it to Linda.  Her response was immediate.

"That's not my handwriting."

It made me laugh.  How could she deny it?   But then I took another look at it and realized that it wasn't her handwriting.  I forwarded the photo to Kimmy who admitted that it did, in fact, look like her handwriting. 

Apparently Linda dictated the now infamous Easter Bunny letter to her big sister.

Keep.