I went from worried to angry quicker than a B.C. teacher’s decision to strike.
Bleary-eyed, I sprang out of bed to answer the telephone. No good news comes at 4 a.m.
I scrambled to find my reading glasses and was extremely relieved to see the call display number wasn’t from a familly member.
“Hello,” I croaked, still sleep-riddled.
“This is the alarm company, we have glass-breaking alarm,” the woman said on the phone.
After telling her to dispatch the cops, I threw on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, found my keys and drove down to the office.
Two officers showed up and began searching the premises for the late-night miscreant who decided our window looked better on the ground.
After combing the area and finding no one around, one of the RCMP officers handed me a card with the file number on it for insurance purposes. As she did this, we speculated who the culprit may have been.
I surmised it was some drunk with nothing better to do … but the officer had another possibility.
“Coulda been kids. They don’t have school tomorrow.”
That’s when it dawned on me about the rotating teacher strikes were scheduled to begin the next day.
Yes. Again B.C. teachers are striking.
Sleep deprived, I went home later that morning to catch a nap. Unfortunately, I live near a school.
It was irregular, but every now and then — interestingly, just as I was about to nod off — there went another car horn.
Yup, the teachers again, distracting drivers in a school zone by urging them with signs and shouts to honk their horn in support.
Defeated about getting in a nap, I went outside and listened to the chatter coming from the picket line.
“The next time, let’s bring our dogs,” one female teacher said.
Interesting she was already planning for the “next time”.
“Yeah honk, where’s my coffee,” a male teacher said while animatedly waiving his sign — backwards.
“I’m not walking,” another teacher said while sitting on the trunk of a car parked near the crosswalk.
“Why didn’t we bring chairs?”
Interestingly, this Monday morning, there was nothing but chairs.
“Well, we got a nice day for this …” one teacher told another as she obviously stretched out in her lawn chair for an early June suntanning session on the picket line.
And then it came …
“I’ll be back in a bit … I need a nap,” one teacher said as she waved goodbye to the picket chair line.
I guess she must have been the Kindergarten teacher.