Iceberg Lettuce

As a kindergarten teacher, I have to teach my students how to rhyme. Seriously! Rhyming is not a skill that comes naturally to a child, and whether or not a child can rhyme is graded on the report card. I ask each kid questions like, “Does the word frog rhyme with the word dog?” Now bear in mind, I have probably just pulled the little darling away from something fun in the classroom like “dress-up” or “block corner” and I have to force him/her to stand next to me and answer a bunch of questions. Leaving no child behind, you know? Some kids are very honest. They look up and say “I don’t care!” Other kids will stare at me blankly and shrug. A few others will answer “yes” or “no.” You see, knowing if something rhymes is a predictor of future reading ability. When I teach this concept, I try to make it fun. I randomly fit rhyming into conversation all day long. I say things like, “Sit in your chair… Claire.” (No one is actually named Claire). Or I say “Get back in line… Calvin Klein!” (No Calvin Klein either). It gets a little pathetic when I do it at home though. My husband knows to ignore me when I start talking like Dr. Suess on crack. Here’s my token phrase… “Don’t panic. We’re not on the Titanic.” I’ll say it to a student who is frustrated over a lost glue stick cap or a broken crayon because nothing could possibly be as bad as being on the Titanic and hitting an iceberg. It’s a good phrase. I take complete credit for it. I made it up. And I actually used it on myself… last night. Do you know what prompted it? Well, a piece of Iceberg Lettuce… what else? A tiny piece of green iceberg lettuce almost made me cry last night.
I know, you’re thinking it is JUST A GARNISH. Why did a piece of lettuce set you off?
Well, I will begin at the beginning… or I will try.
First of all, I have to explain why I am so fragile right now. Lettuce put it this way (ha ha), it has been one “hell of a winter!” We keep getting smacked with snow, and many of us are ready for spring. We have gone skiing, sledding, snowshoeing, and of course we have braved the elements shoveling and scraping. Enough is enough already. We’re almost through our wood supply and we had our WORST STORM THIS YEAR ON MARCH 7th! It actually was a record snowfall! AHHHH! Over two feet of snow piled up on the roof again. Many people think March is a spring month; not in Vermont! To have that Maple Syrup we are all so proud of, we have to have freezing nights and warm days and during those warm days, the snow melts and slides off roofs.
Remember that little detail.
The other thing that gets rough is that the snow has to get plowed and piled somewhere. We’re running out of room for it right now in our community. I struggle opening the doors to our car because the snow is piled up on the sides of the driveway. I feel like I live on top of a toboggon run.
A Honda Element is not the easiest car to exit in a narrow situation on a hill. The doors open in an unusual manner. The front door opens like a regular door (to the right), and the back door opens to the left. The front door has to be open so that the back door can open. I like it that way, because my kids are trapped in the car until I open the door to let them out. But then I have to grab my stuff, open their door, stand and wait for them to hop out with their stuff. And then they often bump the door, which smacks shut and knocks something out of my hands.
Here is a list of what I am usually carrying:
My Blag (purse)
My backpack
My laptop
My luncbox
Invariably something else too
I can hear you shouting, “DOWNSIZE!” “Carry Less!” or “Take two trips moron!”
Right. I live on this steep, steep, steep, hill and I don’t want to take two trips. I just want to get home and put my stuff down and put the busy day behind me.
And besides, during March in Vermont, people try not to make any important decisions. At this point in the year, everyone gets a little antsy with “Cabin Fever”, so it’s just not a good time to change daily routines, jobs, or marriages. So although I should perhaps downsize and put my wallet in my backpack or something simple like that, I simply can’t shift gears right now. Nothing changes in March. Wait until April. I’m trying to be a good Vermonter, stay the course, and be patient. Grass will appear again and then I can think clearly. I’m sure of it. I’ll make changes to my routine then (and not my job or my marriage if all goes well).
Besides, I always feel as if I need all these vessels with me. I’m a mom and I’m busy with many commitments. If I didn’t have my backpack, Blag or lunchbox, I would need something from inside one of them for some undeniable reason. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I just like to be prepared. Besides, I only have to bring the laptop back and forth every other day. The tech guy told me it has to show up at school every “coupla days to stay anti-virused.” The tech guy doesn’t live on my hill.
So, last night, I got of the car, opened the back door for the boys, and gathered ALL my things to prepare to climb the mushy summit. Although it had been snowing in the morning, it was now sleeting and the snow underfoot was slippery slush. The kids climbed out. Earlier, we had gone to the library, so there was also a giant “Where’s Waldo” book that had to go up the hill too. We had gone out to eat (a rare thing) so I was carrying take-out food for my husband in one of those flimsy Styrofoam containers. Now, you can see where this is going, can’t you?
Foreshadowing: slippery slush and snow-piled roofs that melt and slide onto paths and decks
I put my coat, hat, and mittens on and took a deep breath. I am a roadie. I am a woman. Hear me roar. The kids climbed ahead of me. It was pretty dark. We hadn’t left any lights on that morning, but we followed the tobaggon path past the snowman and onto the steps.
My son warned me, “There’s alotta snow on the deck, mom.”
“It must’ve come off the roof today.” I grunted.
“Why?” He yelled. I was well behind him.
Fast. Intense. Wants to know information. How dare he at 8:00 pm on a school night? I don’t have the energy for answering questions on a Thursday while carrying way too much uphill in slush!
He is that kind of kid. He wants an entire explanation of “why” the snow would come off the roof and I have to give it to him right then and there. He doesn’t care that I am causing myself to slip a disk because I am acting like a Grand Canyon pack mule. He is carrying enough of his own stuff to worry about helping me anyway.
“It melted.”
“Why?”
“It was over thirty-two degrees today. The snow warmed up and slid off.”
“Oh.”
By this point I was at the top of the slushy steps and I paused to catch my breath and prepare to step onto the giant mound of snow that was blocking what should be my path to my door. He had already made it to the door.
I took one giant step and one little step. Upon completion of my little step, I suddenly realized I had stepped on the tail of my own long winter coat. Everything in my hands and on my arms went flying as my exhausted brain tried to process the situation.
Now. If you are ever in this situation, (I know, you’re thinking “I never will be because I don’t live the way you do”) here is what happens: you’re brain will instantly make a decision on what to save. My priorities were my husband’s dinner and the laptop.
Well, things didn’t really go as planned. EVERYTHING went flying! It landed on the soft snow (the lap top is fine) I managed to snag one thing: a small piece of iceberg lettuce. Mid-air. Seriously.
My one son, bless his little heart, said. “Mom, are you okay?”
My other son, bless his heart, said, “Will we have time to watch tv tonight?”
I answered both of them at once, “Don’t worry about me boys, I’m fine!” Under my breath I said to myself, “Don’t panic. You’re not on the Titanic.” I could’ve laughed or cried at that point, either one would’ve been appropriate. I did what I had to do. I got up, brushed myself off, grabbed what I could find in the dark and went inside.
I don’t think I stayed awake too long after that. It had been a long day.
But this morning, I looked out the window to see my neighbor shoveling our toboggan run (driveway). It took me a second to realize that he was shoveling the driveway because the snow had come off his roof and completely covered the driveway. This meant that until the snow was removed, I could not get to work.
Ah… Friday. I made the necessary phone calls and got ready for work. “Oh well,” I thought to myself out loud, “I have no control over the situation. Don’t panic… We’re not on the Titanic.” I reminded myself.
We weren’t actually that late after all. My neighbor actually shoveled the entire thing pretty quickly. We left the house. I had forgotten that there was a giant mound of snow on the deck that we had to climb over. I took a deep breath of cold Vermont morning air and climbed the pile and descended the steps.
Then suddenly I saw something GREEN! I was a little confused at first. For a second, I thought it was grass. I thought it was spring. Silly me. It was just a misplaced piece of lettuce from last night. Iceberg lettuce. Garnish.
Ah… Friday. The end of the work week… and one day closer to spring. We’re almost there.
“Iceberg dead ahead!” I said to no one in particular.