A happy birthday.

Thanks to all my family and friends that wished me a happy birthday today – you guys are great and made my day.

The day started with a text from my brother, sister-in-law and a friend all wishing me a happy birthday, and several wishes on Facebook.

Friggatriskaidekaphobia: the fear of Friday the 13^th. I turned 13 on Friday the 13^th and my brother pointed out in his text that my age this year happens to be divisible by 13.  Having survived my 13^th birthday, this wasn’t the slightest bit worrisome, actually I find it amusing.  13, 30 and now a multiple of 13.

First period one of the students remembered that today was my birthday – they all wished me a happy one. 

Second period the media specialist (librarian) called me down and I got a whole bunch of presents.  Not mine, but for me.  The new video camera, computer and other equipment I ordered for the school so that we could improve the morning announcements came in.  Fun stuff.  My tech kids and I started setting things up in the room we commandeered for the project.  Presents – wheeee!

Word spreads fast in a junior high school, by third period I had the entire class singing “Happy Birthday” in the hall as I went to open up the classroom.

But fourth period gets the award for most organized.  They came in like normal, sat down, did their warm-ups while I took roll.  As I started passing out the test we were taking today a few students had questions, and I answered them.  One student in the back casually raised his hand and when I called on him all he said was “1,  2,  3…” and the whole class sang “Happy Birthday”.

Yes, it was a bit of an ego boost.  The “Happy Birthday”s in the hall,  in the lunchroom, in the other classes.

But one of the greatest things came in 7^th period from a kid that has on occasion accused me of hating him because I often have to give him consequences for disrupting class.  To get the depth of the thought he put into this, I’ll need to give a little background info.

I lived in the Boston area until I was 14, when we moved to Utah.  I lost most of my Boston accent, but there are still a few words that the kids love to give me crap about the way I say them.  One is the word orange, which I pronounce more like arange.

“Happy birthday, here’s a bag of arange jelly beans.”

Then home after school and a bunch of new “Happy Birthday”s from family and friends.

Love you guys, it was a nice birthday.