Mrs. Dahl FInds Her Inner Indiana Jones/How I Spent My Summer

I was a squirelly kid.  I really was.  I read too much and suffered from an overactive imagination - a potent combination.  At about the age of eight, I had my future career choices nailed down to one of three vocations:  a).  astronaut, b). Cold War spy, c). archeologist.

I gave it a few test runs in our St. Louis suburban yard.  My cousin and best pal, Sharlene, and I woke up one summer morning and decided to dig to China.  We'd heard the phrase and figured, "how hard can it be?"  We dug for about fifteen minutes and were ready to abandon the challenge but then....... we hit something!  There was only one thing it could possibly be.  Buried treasure!!  We dug like fury.  With our mother's best serving spoons as shovels, we slowly extricated the shape of an ancient vase (our best guess).  Sharlene's foster sister happened by.  Excitedly we showed her our discovery that was going to rock the Missouri Historical Society, and probably the world. She gamely took a quick peek and then laughed as she sauntered away.  "It's a tree root," she tossed back over her shoulder.  Deflation.  Archeology and China were forgotten.  And probably our mother's spoon as well (sorry about that, mother dearest).

Fast forward.  I chose teaching AFTER I chose raising a house full of rowdy kids who probably have most of my serving spoons hidden in the yard.  Teaching is my perfect fit - like an Ann Taylor skirt.  I love everything about it (sans the endless meetings).  But the eight-year-old in me has never forgotten or abandoned those other dreams.  The astronaut and spy might be a bit trickier to achieve.  Although I MET an astronaut this spring - that's pretty darn close to dream-fulfilled for me. 

I cannot begin to imagine how excited my students will be when I share my adventures with them.  Dinosaurs are a first grader's obsession.  They're nuts about them.  They'll think I am a pretty cool teacher.  Shucks, at this moment, I FEEL pretty cool (go me!!).

I had to do a little convincing of the Hubster that this was a good idea.  I had surgery just four weeks ago.  I promised him that if I got too exhausted, I would high-tail it home.  He smiled and said, "have a great time." 

And so, I signed up, did a war-whoop, and counted down the hours.  Turns out, it would be an adventure that far exceeded all expectations.