First Day of School

Well, I know my sister is going to be disappointed, but no one marched into my room this morning, and led with, "Hey Miss Murray! Who cut you?" as they pointed at my thyroidectomy scar. That's Ann's favorite part of my whole year last year. That's life in these modern times.

No one compared how much their tennis shoes cost ... or their basketball jersey cost ... or where they got their new school clothes.

No, this year started off banally enough ... typically enough ... with my newly minted fourth graders stepping into my room with much fear and trepidation. You see, there is this "ugly" rumor floating around that Miss Murray is mean and nasty and ugly and mean and nasty ... and, well, you get my drift. They spend the first half of the day looking for the supposed wart on the end of my nose and wondering where I park my turbo-boosted broom.

I don't do much to dispel these rumors as it makes getting them whipped into shape that much easier on me. It's not so much that I'm mean as it is that I am just really strict. I want it done my way, and I want it done efficiently and with little disruption. I want my room running like a well-oiled machine, and I feel like, spending the little time fueling the WICKED WITCH OF THE NORTH rumors really helps me to get the well-oiled machine a lot quicker.

So, another first day of school is under my belt, and so begins the business of educating my kiddos. It's gonna be a great year; I can just feel it!


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