I pass a bubbly, wiggly, cheering line of kindergartners who have just exited the chaos of the lunchroom. They pass me and one raises his arms and yells out, ‘We are going to the gym! We’re going to the gym!’ In a flash, I raise my arms and respond loudly, ‘I never, ever have to go to gym again!’
Someone else shoves and wobbles clumsily in line and raises his arms yelling, ‘I’m going to jail! I’m going to jail!’ I answer again with raised arms, ‘I’m never, ever going to jail!’
They keep laughing and shoving past me and the line disappears around the corner. I lower my arms, look around and quickly enter the awaiting elevator.
As the door slides shut, I look up at the ceiling and think out loud, ‘At times like this, I consider that I may be either French…or just plain nuts…’
690 Saint Paul 