Gone are the fifth graders, and with them all my blogging material. High school is much...quieter, in Miss G.'s room anyway.
When my fifth-graders heard I was going to Miss G.'s room, they became very concerned. Miss G. has a reputation, even down in fifth grade. "Don't ever sneeze in her room, and don't yawn, or she'll make you cry!"
I laughed at them. "Miss G. is a very nice lady," I insisted.
I was sitting in the back of her room on one of my first days, observing. I sniffed, panicked, and got a tissue. I sneaked a guilty look at Miss G., then laughed at myself. But then half an hour later...
...I felt a sneeze impending. I panicked again and held my breath till it passed.
The next afternoon I was standing at the kitchen sink. Bear (our big white dog) was dozing in the front yard. He opened his jaws and yawned and I panicked again: Bear! Cover your mouth! Oh wait -- he's a dog. And besides Miss G. didn't see it.
[To clarify: Miss G. really is a kind lady, and she has never yet mentioned sneezing or yawning.]
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