I think it’s a good thing that people can’t see what’s happening inside my head at certain times. There was a moment this morning that was one of those times.
Here’s what happened.
The playground at the preschool is separated into three areas by a black wrought iron fence and gates that allow access to each area. The four to five-year-old playground is next to the toddler playground.
So this morning I was sitting in the sunshine chatting away with some of the little ones when I heard another teacher screaming my name. I looked up and saw her standing on the other side of the fence looking frantic and on my side of the fence there was a small little toddler with her head stuck between the bars.
I seriously don’t know how kids do this. I mean, if you can get your head in then you should be able to get your head out, right? Makes sense to me.
Anyway, the teacher on the other side of the fence was absolutely freaking out and another teacher on my side was kind of freaking out.
And inside my brain, where no one could hear it, I was laughing like crazy because I thought it was the funniest darn thing ever.
I’m a terrible person.
I did however manage to pry the bars apart all by myself and the little girl wriggled free. So despite my internal immature and inappropriate amusement at the situation, really I was the hero of it all.
Prying those bars apart made me feel like Wonder Woman.
I’m starting to doubt that fence is actually made of wrought iron. Either that or I might have been bitten by a radioactive spider without even noticing.
Later on another teacher told me that little girl was the fourth child to get their head stuck in the fence in the last year.
I think maybe they should rethink that fence.
Little kids have big heads. How the hell do they get them between those fence bars?!? I just don’t understand.
But I do find it extremely amusing.
I do believe though that my heroic actions today cancel out the fact that I was laughing inside while that poor little girl was terrified. I think my karma is still intact. Right? Right.
My mom told me when I was little I would run into walls all the time because I didn’t really now how to turn well or judge distance when I was moving at high speeds. And she said she just laughed at me.
So that’s where I get it from.
Just imagine that big bald-headed dude was me this morning. Although he looks like he’s struggling a bit more than I did.
He should probably work out more.