Every Tuesday, a homeschool group rents out the building I work in for their "co-op day." (My thoughts on how you can be called "homeschoolers" and have classes in a big building with a zillion other kids will have to wait til another day.)
Needless to say, Tuesdays are loud and always an adventure. I'm used to it. I am used to hearing ridiculous songs about the periodic table and the order of the presidents. I am used to walking down the hall while hugging the wall because the children insist on walking side-by-side in groups of eleven when they venture from room to room. I am even used to seeing breast-feeding mothers - EVERYWHERE - with or without blankets to cover themselves. Doesn't even phase me anymore.
But today - oh, today - today is different. Today, Tuesday, the 14th of April, is the day that the kids brought chicks to school. No, not hot teeny-boppers or twenties somethings, like real chicks. Baby chickens. How do I know this? Well, the chicks have been chirping and tweeting ever since I walked in the door this morning. Don't get me wrong, they are adorable, and it makes me sad to think about how many of them will probably die before they make it to the "big farm" all the mothers are taking them to on Thursday. I just wish they could be cute and adorable in a room that isn't right next door to my office. Is that too much to ask?