by David Hunter
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The whistle!
Recess is over. I'm at once both glad and a little sad by that fact. Normally I would want to stay outside. A couple of times I have missed going back into the classroom with the others, being so focused on bees in the flowers of clover that I didn't hear the bell. On both occasions, it didn't take long for my teacher to go back outside to locate me, holding my hand to walk with me back into the room. The first time she seemed afraid when I wasn't in the room with the others, though she expressed no anger with me when she found me on the playground. The second time she seemed amused while firmly reiterating that I have to pay more attention to the bell. Now she simply makes sure I'm standing in line with the other children before we return to our classroom.
Going back to our room from recess I know that very soon the assistant from the cafeteria is scheduled to bring in a food cart with our cartons of milk and something to eat for a snack. Then it will finally be time for a nap!
Sometimes our teacher also falls asleep at her desk during our nap. We usually wake up before she so she awakens to the sound of muted giggles. She smiles at such times. Really, she smiles with generous frequency. Her gentle and unassuming nature bespeaks such warmth that envelopes the entire room with a kindness that radiates from her very being.
Everybody is awake now. I think I slept but I'm not certain as I'm still so groggy. If I did get any sleep it wasn't restful in the least. I'm just so exhausted. When I get home I'll ask mom if I can go to bed. That will, without a doubt, shock her silly! Usually I make a mad dash with my stuffed bear who I creatively named "Bear" to the back yard to play. I'm so tired now that the very thought of playing seems to actually exhaust me even more.
Maybe I didn’t sleep because my leg is burning. How can my leg be so hot and not spontaneously combust like the cartoon about the Phoenix I saw on television? Those horrible, wretched fire ants! Every time I feel their sting I vow to myself to avoid them, but the next day I can't help but to forgive, forget, and crouch once again over these characters to amuse myself with their orderly society. I know I'm not supposed to be near these ants, my mother told me to stay away from them. I feel badly about disobeying her, but not so badly as to change my ways. When I'm old enough to go to Confession I'll tell the Priest, probably say some prayers to be forgiven.