There is just something about turtles that makes one smile. Is it their carefree attitude, or the semblance of a smile on their little turtle faces? I don't know, but I just love them. When I was in college, my sorority sisters (yes, I was in a sorority - it was a service sorority, but we did like to get together for parties, too!) had a thing where if someone asked you, "Are you a turtle?" the instant reply was, "You bet your sweet a** I am!" This is something that DH has found immensely amusing through the years, and every so often he'll ask me if I'm a turtle. Of course, I have to say the correct answer, which makes him laugh.
There is no great meaning in this what-so-ever.
However, I do like turtles. I've got a turtle pin (but material isn't such one wants to stick a pin in it because it might ruin the outfit), and several years ago I found turtle earrings in a little shop in Williamsburg. I love those earrings. But, it seemed I would wear them on Tuesdays - why? Who knows! It must be the day I head for black clothing - the earrings are black and silver. Very attractive. It must have occurred to me once a while back that if I wore them on a Tuesday, something odd would happen during the day, so I stopped wearing them, period.
This morning I reached for the beloved turtles, then pulled my hand back. "It's Tuesday," I muttered under my breath. Then, I stopped. I'm not a superstitious person by nature, and decided I was acting ridiculous. I put them on, smiled, and went on my way.
Nothing major happened all day, until after lunch. I had cafeteria duty, and when it was done, walked back to my room. The sixth graders came in and got out their work. I do try to make my way around the room, checking on their progress, and making sure that everyone is behaving. On one of the passes around the tables, a terrible stench hit my nose. My first thought was, "Geez, what did those boys have for lunch?" Every time I went by, it smelled a little more, and I felt bad for them. They left, and another class came in.
This time it was a group of fifth graders. One of them had gone to use the pencil sharpener in the back of the room, and called out, "Mrs. Kelly, there's icky water in the sink."
I stopped what I was doing. The gross smell - not one of the kiddos with toxic gas, but some sort of back-up slowly rising in the sinks. I rushed (as fast as an old woman with a cane can rush) to the phone, when I noticed it was seeping out from under the cabinets and headed towards my desk. I called the secretary. No answer. I tried again. Again, no answer. I left a message to call me quickly, there was a problem with the sinks.
After letting the students know they shouldn't go near the sinks, I continued helping them with removing weavings from looms and getting started on the next project. I reached for the phone once more, and this time reached her, when she said, "I can't talk right now - I'm calling kids down for early dismissals. I'll call you back."
I looked at the increasing flow of icky water headed for my desk. I took one of my trusty post-it notes and wrote on it, "My room is flooding and there is sewage water coming up through my sinks." One of the students was more than happy to get out of the room to deliver the note. She sent the custodian down - nice young man, but has difficulty problem solving. He brought stuff to pour down a drain if it's clogged. "I don't think that will work," I said.
"No, this works."
I shook my head. "The sink isn't clogged. All of the sinks are backing up, and there's water coming out from under the sink."
Then, we did the worst thing anyone could ever do in this situation: we opened the cabinet doors. The stench was awful! We looked at the water seeping out of the traps. He looked at me. "What do we do?"
Well, if I knew what to do...
"Someone has to come and fix this," I said. He went to the office for help, then came back with a mop. In the meantime, class was ending. I called the next teacher and asked if I could have class in her room, as there was a major debacle happening in mine. Kiddos came to the room for their folders, and I grabbed a few things to take to her room. It was definitely quite a different adventure from the norm. We got through it.
Nobody was going to come today to look at it - they'll come tomorrow. I'm thinking that I will be holding art in the library tomorrow, because the room will still stink like a cesspool.
Now, here at the Stress Pool, we're used to crazy things happening, and of course, we'd love to hear your stories, too. But, if you pop in on a Tuesday, don't expect to see the turtles.
