Today my fifth grade students tasted the glory of their favorite school day all year: Field Day. They each got dressed this morning fantasizing about sport centers, the playground waterslide, face painting and the snowcone station.
Meanwhile, their teacher scoured her closet, searching for an appropriate skirt or dress for the occasion. I have one jean skirt, but it's long and would be incredibly awkward with tennis shoes. I dreamed of a sporty tennis dress, but realized that would be way to short for a teacher. I perused my collection of leggings as a way to add coverage. In the end, I admitted defeat and wore jeans and a school t-shirt for Field Day. It is my first challenge, and I wimped out.
The whole experience reminded me of my childhood. After two boys, my mom was thrilled to finally have a girl. She proceeded to buy all of the pink, purple and lace she could find. I remember watching the lace get torn and pulled off a pretty red dress as I pedaled along on a tricycle at daycare. I remember complaining that my dresses flipped up when I twirled upside down on the bars in first grade. I also remember rebelling and outlawing all pink and purple from my closet after getting teased by a classmate in fourth grade. So here I am again, complaining about my dress (or lack thereof) on the playground. Better luck next time, Senorita Nicole.
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