Yesterday was our kickball game 6th grade teachers vs students. We won...again. This year we decided to play 6 innings, one for each of the kickball teams we had for the student tournament. We were really tired after the 3rd inning but we kept playing. Basically it would go something like this: I kick, I get to 1st (sometimes 2nd), Adam kicks, I get to at least 2nd sometimes 3rd, Garrett kicks, I HAVE to get home no matter if I'm on 2nd or 3rd because I then have to kick again since there are only 3 of us versus 81 of them, but only 13 or 14 at a time. There was a time in the game where Adam was on 3rd, Garrett was on 1st, I was kicking but I popped it up and they caught it so I was out. It was then Adam's turn but he was on 3rd, I thought I would get a break from running but realized I had to go run for Adam so he could kick. He got me home and I figured I could rest now as it was Garrett's turn but he was now on 2nd so I had to go run for him which meant I had to get home from 2nd because my turn to kick was next. At one point, I completely biffed it while coming into home. Since I was wearing shorts, I grass stained my skin. I tried to take some pictures of my battle wounds, but they weren't dark enough. Right now my leg is starting to turn a darker shade of brown which may eventually turn purple. I just laugh about it, I think it's hilarious. I am so tired and sore, but I had a lot of fun! The final score was 40 to 38, it would have been higher on our side except we decided to not take out last turn up "at bat" since we had already won.
I got some flowers today. Today was our graduation from 6th grade. It was my turn to be the main speaker to welcome everyone and get things rolling so that means it was also my turn to get emotional. It's a lot easier when you can just sit back and watch your co-workers do it and just agree with them. I wasn't a very eloquent speaker and I used the word "really" a lot, but I hope I got my point across. Luckily, I didn't need any Kleenex, but it was pretty close. The flowers were from one of my students, one that was quite the handful, but those always end up tugging at your heart the most when it's time to say goodbye. I almost started crying because he almost started crying when everything was over. It makes me believe that I must be doing something right especially since this is the boy that at one point was yelling at the top of his lungs at me from across the room as I sent him to the office, "WHO SAID I WANTED TO BE IN YOUR CLASS ANYWAY!" So why is it that the only flowers I ever get come from 12-year-old boys?
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