Squeaky

I somehow survived a mouse poking its head out of my shoe as I was about it put it on. Then, yesterday, I made it through the day even though I found two baby mice in the sticky trap behind my desk. Today, though, the mouse took up extreme sports in my classroom, and I am finding this utterly unacceptable. The filthy vermin plunged from a hole in the ceiling, landing within a foot of a student who was giving an informative speech, and transformed what was once a quiet, sleepy after-lunch classroom into chaotic circus of screaming, jumping, and grandstanding. Boys were suddenly chasing the once-airborn rodent around the room, girls were curled up in their seats, and I was standing on top of my chair, telling everyone to stay calm. I'm striving to teach these kids volume, articulation, poise, and eye contact; but I have a feeling the only thing they will remember from today is Squeaky the flying mouse.