An Ode to the Teachers

As I was pulling out of the school drop off line this morning, I noticed that every kid entering the building had a gift box or handful of flowers.  Was it Valentine’s Day?  Was a popular kid having a birthday? 

Then I remembered the email that came out last week – the one I saved as a reminder but never referred back to. 

Next Tuesday is Teacher Appreciation Day, do something nice in return for all that they do for us.

Well, I missed that too.  As you count your blessings, be thankful that you aren’t one of my kids’ teachers. 

I looked around the car, was there anything I could run back in?  A half used Starbucks card?  A fairly nice Uniball Pen?  A coupon book with 90% of the bargains in tact?  The blue and white polka dotted dish towel I hang around my neck to keep coffee off of my bow tie?  Give it up man, you lost this one.  You have an 8:30 meeting.  It ain’t gonna happen.

As I hit the on ramp to the 440 beltline, the verse of a poem entered my brain.  So teachers, I love you!  You are good to my kids.  This Ode I wrote on the way to work.  It may be short-lived, but so are the carnations.

An Ode to our Teachers

Roses are Red, Violets are blue

You’re the best teachers for a dad with no clue.


My kids are on track, you won’t let them fail,

One day Nurse Huber even clipped Michelle’s toenails.


I forget lunches, I forget drinks,

The class mom sends my reminders in red, not blue, ink.


I don’t pick up on time, my kids’ hair is deshelved,

and if you ask me why – my face just looks puzzled.


Sorry I forgot the flowers and trinkets,

If organizing was a ship, like the Titanic I’d sink it.


The Tanners

(If anyone knows my kids teachers, please forward this to them.  I lost their email addresses.)

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