Tradition. Tradition. Tradition. (teaching/school/life)

Tonight, I had to go see Fiddler on the Roof. Normally, when people say they had to go do something, they are stretching the truth. In fact, I have been known to do that from time to time. However, tonight, I am taking no liberties. I had to go see a play for a class called Teaching Science and Social Studies Methods (or something like that). It was good. But, I am tired. Like all of the other teachers there, I was ready for bed 45 minutes before the end of the first act. What has my life become when a nine o'clock bedtime is the norm among the people I know?

The play was fine. Harvey Fierstein and his character reminded me of my father. I don't know if it is the fact that the character had lots of daughters or if it was the wide range of voices he used. But, I found myself comparing him (them) to pops. What is it about fathers and daughters? We are bound by something fierce.

In addition to my own familial traditions, this play made me think of a friend who says she can do the bottle dance without Velcro. Amazing, you say...and, I agree. I cannot walk in a straight line on a typical day. She danced some Russian dance with glass in her immediate vicinity. For me, that would just be asking for stitches.

Now, I have to get ready for a day of teaching having had no sleep. I fear for my self. Six-year-olds may eat me alive in the morning. If I don't blog at some point this weekend, just figure they got the best of me.