Suns Out, Inks Out

School’s Out for the Summer by Alice Cooper: a metal song, later used in a Staples school supplies commercial. Nothing screams rock like paper and scissors.

It’s been a few years since I’ve been in elementary school but I believe teachers still ask students what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids don’t know who their best friend is going to be tomorrow but let’s ask what they plan to do in 20 years. 

There’s always the common responses: teacher, doctor, musician, astronaut, athlete, firefighter. I have yet to hear “waterslide tester”.

This question really sets kids up for disappointment.

Of all your grade 4 classmates who said they were going to be a doctor, how many are practicing medicine now? 

Then as adults the first question we are asked is what do you do for work? Or if you tell your friend you’re going on a date, they immediately ask what they do for a living.  

Our society is programmed to identify someone by their career but let’s be radical and identify people by their kindness, thoughtfulness and their ability to come back from a mishap… 

In Summer YolkTales, yolk was everywhere. Today, red was everywhere. 

Within our organization, documenting with a red pen is prohibited. Black and blue pens only – not very inclusive. However, when I’m correcting my recreation therapy student’s work, I use a red pen to live out my childhood dream of becoming a school teacher (until I worked with kids for a summer). 

One day after reviewing my student’s work, I foolishly slipped the red pen into my pocket. That night when I went to fold my laundry, my dryer looked like a crime scene. My pants, shirts, underwear and dryer walls were covered in blood red. 

The closest I’ll ever get to a true crime story. 

After much effort, my clothes and dryer were back to their original colour. And I was reminded how weak my arms really are. 

The next morning my friend, Carmen and I drove to a conference. We had done these trips multiple times together so we knew each other’s routines, quirks, likes and who snores the loudest after a night out. 

Not to mention, she was seasoned to my clumsiness during and outside of working hours. 

This particular year, the conference was held in the city where my brother lives. So for the first night, I opted out of the organized social event and went to his place instead to eat and drink for free.

When I returned to our hotel room, Carmen was sound asleep, so I decided to take a shower. There was no way I was going to wash my hair in the morning before an 8:00am start time. 

As I undressed (don’t worry this blog is still rated PG), I noticed a few spots of red on the inside of my jeans. 

It wasn’t that time of the month, so the only other explanation was the red pen catastrophe prior to the trip. 

It appears I hadn’t rinsed my clothes as well as I had thought. The more skin revealed, the more red revealed.

So I stepped into the shower and scrubbed my skin as hard as the Dwarfs scrub Grumpy.  

Red ricocheted off of every surface. By the end of the shower there was red residue on the white shower curtain, white bath mat and white towels. 

Why must hotels insist on having white everything? I need to know their bleach method. 

The next morning, I informed Carmen of the current state of the washroom. I explained, “there is a chance we’ll get charged extra for this.”

She smirked and stated, “good thing the hotel is charged to your credit card then.” 

When I grow up I want to be graceful.