Squeeze The Lemon

It is true what they say--what goes around, comes around. It's called karma, baby.

I put more hexes, spells and bunny ears on lunchtime time aides between the years of 1989 and 1995 then I care to remember. In elementary school, to be in any "club" at school, your first test of loyalty to that club was to put bunny ears on the Russian lunch aide who spoke little to no English. The funny thing is, this NEVER got old. For six years, our one and only initiation into any club were to put bunny ears on that innocent, non-English speaking woman.

Little did I know that fifteen years later, I would be in that poor, poor woman's shoes. Twice a week I serve on lunch duty at school. This consists of reminding kids to eat. (REALLY? You're in the cafeteria, what do you think you're SUPPOSED to be doing right now?!) To mediating conflicts Rachel- Sally said my breath smells. Sally-Well, it does. To breaking up the occasional fistfight and of course--warding off bunny ears like it is my god given job.

The kids favorite game to play at recess is called Squeeze The Lemon. The premise of this game is to, well... squeeze the shit out of each other. Here's how. Students slide down the slide waiting at the slides edge. One by one, they kids come barreling down crashing into each other, "squeezing" each other. Fat kids squeezing the tiny kids, loving every minute of it.

The game was in full swing when suddenly--I heard the chant of my name...the children had chosen me, their teacher, as the next person to be squeezed. Did I want to be apart of this game? Absolutely not. But, did I give into the peer pressure brought on by eight and nine year old children? Of course I did. I reluctantly slid down the slide landing next to Laura (a tiny child) afraid that I had somehow broken her. As, I was busy checking her for injuries, (sure that I had somehow crushed her) I glanced up only to notice Pedro-(who weighs more than I do) sliding all of his body weight into mine.
It. Was. Not. Fun.

Maybe being on lunch duty is somehow a punishment for all of the lunch aides of my past that I tortured...it sure feels like it.