This is a Kentucky Mess

If you have read this blog for more than 60 seconds (and given the fact I only have a few entries, you could read the entire thing in 5 minutes) you've probably caught on to the fact if there is something humorous from my day, I will happily share it with you.

You're welcome.

There are days that I leave my classroom with a sense of purpose, feeling contented in the fact I feel called and blessed to be a school teacher.

Then there's days when I leave feeling seriously unqualified to teach anyone anything.

Today was one of those days.

Before I get to what will make you smile, it's important you know a couple of things:

1. I am one of those hated "morning people".  I awake and skip to my car, shun coffee and may go a little heavy on the accelerator not because I am late to work,  because I can't wait to get to work.  (Okay, one of those is a lie-I'm on a first name basis with the Starbucks baristas on Boston Road.)  Morning is when I am my most productive (it's also when there are rarely people at school-you don't have to wait for a copier at 6:15 a.m.).  After noon or 1:00 p.m., my neural pathways cease to function.
2. Afternoons are not good for me.  After school I can't function-except to straighten up my desk and talk to colleagues.

Our book fair starts next week, so the cases arrived today.  Because my school has awesome parents, they had the thing set up in an hour.  So of course I had to stop and browse.  My school allows teacher to fill up a bag with books incase families want to purchase a book for the classroom library.  After spending about 30 minutes weighing mine down, I found a good spot and put it away for Monday. 

While walking back to my classroom, the YMCA after school program had kids in the hallway.  While navigating the sea of children, I notice a UK blue shirt.  Naturally, I read it out of the corner of my eye.  It read:  This is what a Kentucky mess looks like.

I don't know where you're from, but around here we use to the term "hot mess" to describe any and everybody, from the people who jaywalk to those who go to Kroger in pajamas. 

Knowing this is not a term of endearment, I could not figure out why some family had sent their child (who is in the 3rd grade, so they can read) to school in a shirt proclaiming they need help.

So I gave the little girl one more glance, just to make sure it wasn't a child I had previously taught.  And saw the text on the shirt again: This is what a Kentucky princess looks like.

Oops.

I believe I have solved the mystery of why I'm teaching kindgarten this year.  I need to review the alphabet. 

And then I will be a hot mess no more.