On the Classroom Floor

Six periods a cycle, I teach DPA (or daily physical activity) during science class. I have been trying to take advantage of this 20 minutes of vigorous activity that my students are doing by dressing appropriately and exercising along with them. What a fantastic opportunity to work up a sweat and get my cardio in while being paid for it!

This morning, I knew I taught DPA, but I didn't have my schedule memorized, so I wasn't sure when. I woke up and dressed in my exercise gear, complete with exercise capris. I felt a wee bit self-conscious, but I knew that it's best to dress for exercise when exercise is on the agenda. However, I folded up a complete change of clothes and pushed it into my bookbag before leaving for school.

When I got to school, I glanced at my daybook and saw that I had a planning time the period before my DPA class. What a relief! I could change back into jeans and then just change into my form-fitting capris the period prior to the DPA. So I pulled out my jeans and sneaked into the back science supply room and changed quickly into comfier clothes.

When the bell rang signaling the start of the day, I was ready and standing in the hall outside my classroom to greet students. Kids came in and flooded the halls. A handful of children took a short-cut through my classroom on their way somewhere else; some of my homeroom students came into class, took down chairs and began to organize themselves for the day.

It was only then that I saw something soft and black on the floor at the front of the classroom.

I walked up to it and bent down and then I realized IT WAS MY UNDERWEAR! They must have fallen out of my bag when I was rooting around for my jeans! I glanced around nervously, grabbed them and crammed then into my bookbag, wondering if any students had seen.

Almost milliseconds after the relief of having hidden the embarrassing item of clothing from sight, effectively avoiding uncomfortable questions and awkward unprofessional discussions, another thought struck me. And this was much more horrific than a student glancing down at the floor and seeing my neatly folded, plain-Jane, fleshly laundered underwear. And that thought was, "What if the underwear I just conspiratorily scrunched into my bag weren't mine?!"