Remember reading the story by Beverly Cleary about a mouse and a motorcycle? Well, I do. And I was recently reminded of this series and more particularly the main character. Lately I have been staying a tad later in the classroom preparing for the next day and (week). How late?
Fine.
It was 6:45 last night before I finally grabbed my purse, turned off my classroom lights, and locked the door. On my way out I stopped by the teacher's AV (Audio Visual) room to pick up a document that I had printed. Now I have heard rumors of furry little creatures making themselves comfortable in other teachers' classrooms. I have let this slide seeing as they were no where near my classroom, and I have yet had to dispose of a fully loaded mouse trap.
So I was able to ignore this mouse population- until last night. I open the door to the AV room, flip on the light, and take three steps into the room to get the printed document. And let me tell you something...if there is one thing that makes me squeamish, it is mice. Don't ask me why. I have good reason. To have not squealed was an accomplishment. To stand calmly as the furry bugger ran across the room and into the corner was quite another thing. So to simply say that I saw a mouse at my school is not enough. Rather I was introduced to the nightly activities of the smaller animals living there.
I've met my Ralph. Sans his motorcycle unfortunately.
Fine.
It was 6:45 last night before I finally grabbed my purse, turned off my classroom lights, and locked the door. On my way out I stopped by the teacher's AV (Audio Visual) room to pick up a document that I had printed. Now I have heard rumors of furry little creatures making themselves comfortable in other teachers' classrooms. I have let this slide seeing as they were no where near my classroom, and I have yet had to dispose of a fully loaded mouse trap.
So I was able to ignore this mouse population- until last night. I open the door to the AV room, flip on the light, and take three steps into the room to get the printed document. And let me tell you something...if there is one thing that makes me squeamish, it is mice. Don't ask me why. I have good reason. To have not squealed was an accomplishment. To stand calmly as the furry bugger ran across the room and into the corner was quite another thing. So to simply say that I saw a mouse at my school is not enough. Rather I was introduced to the nightly activities of the smaller animals living there.
I've met my Ralph. Sans his motorcycle unfortunately.
"Look, Ryan," he said. "I'm in trouble and I don't have time to tell you about it. Just take me and my motorcycle with you, and don't ask questions."
"To school?" Ryan was surprised.
Ralph's pesky cousins are wrecking his motorcycle, and his janitor friend, Matt, is in trouble because there seem to be mice in the hotel. All in all things are not going well at the Mountain View Inn. So Ralph persuades his young pal Ryan to take him to school. Ralph is an instant hit with Ryan's classmates. But he doesn't like being forced to run through a maze or the threat of an exterminator coming to the school. Worst of all, Ryan gets into a fight with a classmate, and Ralph's precious motorcycle is broken. Is Ralph S. Mouse smart enough to steer this sad situation to a happy ending?
No comments:
Post a Comment