Teacher-of-the-Year?

Teacher-of-the-Year?!? Oh my goodness...someone has made a terrible error.  Go back and tabulate those figures, people!  Informed of the news this morning, the messenger took one look at my stricken face and reassured me soothingly that "It'll take a bit for it to sink in."  Sink in?  Metaphorically, it feels like a giant sink hole opened up in front of me on the great freeway of life and I drove my little blue Ranger right into it.  It's a joke, right?  Like when you nickname a chunky guy "Slim" or call a bald guy "Curly."  So, throughout the day, my face remained in a perpetual grimace that reflected my inner doubts and turmoil.  My colleagues were annoyingly ecstatic to the point of my wanting to slap them.  Every congratulatory remark was met with a disgusted grunt while I pointed out my regular failings as a human being.  Graciousness is NOT in my vocabulary.  I do not know what to do with adult accolades.  Do I respond with a ducked head, lowered lashes, and an "ah shucks, ma'am" or will the demur Queen Mum backhand wave work?  I dove under my desk as, at the end of the day, my virtues were extolled on the afternoon announcements.  This must surely be the lowest day of my educational career, I thought.  Then suddenly, my classroom door flew open and students began to swarm in.  An 8th grader catapulted himself fifteen feet into my arms.  I found myself on the receiving line of smiling kids who couldn't wait to share in my good news.  And it WAS good news.  Because they had ACTUALLY been there...in my classroom...under my often-unconventional tutelage...and they didn't have any doubts about this honor as it applied to me.  I am so proud to have been named their teacher-of-the-year.