Pam's cookies make my day

Every day is a gift. What's even better is when the day is accompanied by a gift.  Make that multiple gifts.  Facing Friday morning's alarm clock ring, "dee...dee...deedle...deedle...dee/

dee...dee...deedle...deedle...dee" is difficult enough without Savannah's accompanying lyrics:  "I... don't... wanna-go-to-work/I...don't...wanna-go-to-work."  Regardless of whether I wanted to go to work or not, I went.  Cursing the gray day, I slogged through the rain to the school, squeaked down the corridor, opened my classroom door and flipped on the lights. Immediately, my day brightened.   There on a desk, sat a cardboard flat filled with large frosted cookies. Each cookie was decorated with a smiley face.  My friend, Pam works as the school's "copy-ologist" and is one of the kindest, most inspiring people I know. She's one of those people who takes the greatest of personal pride in whatever she does. She is organized, meticulous, creative and can read the minds of distracted teachers who regularly fill out their copy order forms wrong.  Add to that, she is a fantastic baker.  Pam's one great flaw is that she is ungraciously unaware of the proper protocol to respond to a simple thank you note.  My sixth grade team had bought Pam a hanging plant to thank her for a full year of dedication, patience, and good-natured humor. And that is why, on this bleak and dismal day, sunshine cookies lit up my world.  I have no desire to get off this crazy cookie carousal.  I have another thank you note to Pam in the mail already. 

An hour later, I was busy transforming a Common Core module into a fourth-grade-friendly lesson when my friend Geri came strolling in with a strawberry milk for me. The perfect accompaniment to a carton of cookies!  For a moment, she re-thought her generosity, snatching the present back. "You said I had the tastebuds of a truck driver," she snapped, referring to a past blog.  I was thrilled that she'd even bothered to read it. "I wasn't insulting you," I responded defensively, "it was actually a dig at the truckers."  "Oh," she said slowly as I snatched my milk back and guzzled it down before she thought too hard about my comment.  It turned out to be wonderful day.  I also scored a box of rocks and a ream of slightly-faded purple construction paper. Could a girl even dare ask for more?