The Beakeeper

There was more to the bee story in the previous entry that I did not include. I thought, at the time, maybe it wasn't as appropriate as the teacher-student exchange. After all, we were in a classroom.  

Today when I informed the teacher, who partook in yesterday's classic classroom treasure, that I had written about what happened in my blog, she thought I should have included our more personal exchange that took place after the kids left the room. She thought it was the funnier of the two exchanges.

So here it is. Back by popular demand!

(If you haven't read yesterday's entry, just click on the link above, or scroll down to the next entry, and read it before you continue. It's part of the story. Prior knowledge, we call it.)

After the reading lesson (the topic was about transferring bees from one place to another), and the students were dismissed to their next class, I met with her briefly at the classroom door. Again, we had a chuckle over her unintentional question and the ensuing response. She said she would never forget this one.

"By the way," I said with an appropriate combination of professionalism and camaraderie, "I think I'm going to become a beekeeper in the next year or two." I paused. "Since my husband already is one."

Her eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. "He is?" she asked with delight. Her interest was keen.  "I didn't know he was a beekeeper!"

I waited another moment, a slight grin on my face, I think. It felt like a slight grin, but I don't know what she saw.

She had that questioning look on her face, you know, like when you think you know a person, and then you find out they have an interesting but unusual hobby like, say, maybe beekeeping. It sounded possible, not too far off the beaten path.

"He keeps bees?" she asked no doubt desiring to hear more of this sweet bit of news.

"Yeah..." I smiled curiously.

Then I tipped my thumb toward my heart and lowered my voice. "He keeps me!"  I said with what I hoped was a mischievous grin. 

I stepped back into the hallway, turning to get a glimpse of her reaction. Her hand flew to her mouth. A split second later she giggled indiscreetly as students filed back into the classroom for the next class. She has an infectious laugh. Another teacher standing nearby overheard the exchange. He chuckled.

"Bea!" she emphasized my name in mock reproof, but her laughing eyes let me know she appreciated my little joke.

"Gotcha!" I called as I left the classroom. I felt her smile all the way down the hall.

It was a good day for laughing.

Just a note: I don't often tell jokes, mostly because I have a lousy memory and always mess up the punch line, and I'm not very skilled at making them up, but once in awhile, I do get one in. Yeaay, me! and yeay 5th Grade teachers who love to laugh in the classroom!