It was the end of another school year, and the teachers were feeling a little beat up, including me. Endless meetings, mountains of paperwork, pressing deadlines, budget disasters -- it was all making me weary.
And that last week of school, leading my line of third graders, one small boy kept jumping all over the place. I was too exhausted to deal with it. "Billy," I finally said in a tired voice, "Why are you jumping around like that?"
Billy stopped jumping long enough to consider the question. "I dunno," he said happily, in that not-too-concerned way eight-year-olds have, "I think I'm just...full of joy!"
Despite my battle fatigue, I had to stop and laugh.
And it made me realize how much I like being a teacher.