There's nothing better on a Monday morning than getting the call that there is a one-hour delay. However, receiving that call while brushing one's teeth ... well ... that screams professionalism, let me just tell you. It makes your principal want to run to the hills (easy to do where I live) and scream, "She's one of my teachers! One of my best and brightest!"
Yes, that's exactly what he wants to do after the conversation he had with me this morning. It went something like this ....
Me: "Crap!" Spewing toothpaste everywhere as I did.
My principal: "Good morning, Miss Murray."
Me: "Gud mowning ..."
My principal: "Ummmm ... one hour delay ..."
Me: "Un hour? Phllbt ... fank you."
What makes this conversation even more appealing is the fact that not only was I trying to talk through a mouthful of tooth paste, but I was also trying to talk with laryngitis. The whole thing sounded like a cross between a drunken stupor and a pack of chain-smoked cigarettes all consumed within an hour.
Yes, it's moments like these that would just make my mother swell with pride ... and wish she'd spent the extra cash on finishing school.