As a little girl, I found many, many reasons to love extreme weather. Black-out’s were a bummer; but I loved playing shadow animals with my little sister, cooped up in our chilly room in the middle of the night. Drippy roofs were a menace; but I got a kick out of launching paper boats where the roof drain pipe ended. I didn’t have to go to school; but … hang on, there is no ‘but’ to that. I loved typhoon weather because I didn’t have to go to school!
So it felt strange to be awakened by whining children at 5:30am, even if we all knew classes had been suspended the night before. My eldest son wanted to go to school JUST IN CASE his teachers wanted to brave the rains to deliver quarterly exams to a bunch of 14-year-old’s. My second son wanted to go to school because our family might be the only people who watched TV last night, and their Linggo ng Wika program is going to go on without him (he had been modelling his magsasaka outfit and hat all week). My youngest wanted to go to school, if her brothers were going.
My children were hovering over my snoring carcass at 5:30am, trying to convince me to take them to school on a Signal No 2 day! That’s just wrong on so many levels.
As I tried to instill values that will make my children productive members of society, I guess it’s possible to do my job too well.