Elementary School Rocks

Elementary school is a magical place.
I spend more time talking to children than I do adults. 
I leave every day with my hands covered with paint and Crayola markers.
I live in a land of glitter and tinsel and ribbon.
I spin jump ropes and know more about Pokemon cards than I'd like to admit.
I don't use big words.
I live off of coffee.
I talk at max volume.
I perform all day long.
I dance, I sing, I RAP!
(I think those last few might be directly correlated to my love of coffee.)
I think that any math past simple multiplication facts requires a calculator.
I think suits are stuffy.
I have a desk. That is piled with stuff.
I have a rolling chair. That doesn't see much action.
I'm glad these two things don't have feelings. They'd probably be suffering from separation anxiety and severe feelings of under appreciation. 
The thought of having a "grown up" job where I'd have to learn to sit in and make use of such things makes me want to cry.
I can't imagine not being able to crawl around and play.   
I hear BIG dreams every day.
I hear crazy stories.
I listen to sadness.
I give hugs.
I dry tears.
I put on Band Aids.
I break up fights.
I watch friendships form and grow.
I say "I love you." 
I laugh and I laugh and I laugh.
I have more stories than I can count.
After all, #secondgradeissilly ;)
Everyday I get to tell kids they matter.
I get to tell them they are loved.
I get to tell them that they can make a difference.
I am blessed beyond belief.
I know that it is so rare to get to do what you love every single day.
I have my dream "job" at 23. (And I knew it way before now).
Someone come slap me if I ever take this for granted.