When animals shed their coats, they don't have to remember where they left them.

(The Carnival of Education is up, so click on over to Education Wonks and get caught up on some issues that directly affect your children, and you, and the universe in general.)

It’s cold here now, so on Monday I wore my black leather coat to work. I took it off and put it on the back of my chair so I’d be sure to remember it. I forgot it and had to go back to get it.

On Tuesday, it was still cold, so I wore my coat to work. I took it off and put it on the back of my chair so I’d be sure to remember it. I wrote myself a little post-it note and stuck it to the lectern. I looked at the note for three hours, and was confident that I’d remember. I forgot it and had to drive back to get it.

Today, it was FREEZING this morning, so I wore my coat again. I took it off and put it on the back of my chair (are you picking up a pattern yet?) so I’d be sure to remember it. I forgot it and had to go back to get it.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, I change classrooms in the morning, and I’m embarassed to tell you that I forgot that coat in both classrooms, both days.

Last winter, I gave up on myself and started leaving my coat in the car, and running to the door before I froze solid. I guess I’ll have to start doing that again this winter.

I think it’s because I really do hate to wear a coat at all. When I take it off, my mind eliminates it from all of existence.

Back in the middle school, I used to write “Please remind me to wear my coat home” on the blackboard. And my last period class, bless their pointy little heads, would always remind me. They used to take turns, in fact, actually coming behind my desk, picking up my coat, giving it to me to hold, and forbidding me to put it down.

I guess they didn’t realize that after they left my room, I still had two hours or more of work to do. Sometimes, I graded papers wearing my coat. It was always cold in there anyway.

But now, I do all that at home, and I’m going to have to somehow remember to put my coat back on.

It’s starting. I’m becoming an absent-minded four-year-old child. . . . .

Okay, I confess. Last winter I didn’t even HAVE that coat for much of the year. That’s because I wore it to my sister’s house at Christmas and forgot it. And she couldn’t remember it either, so by the time both of us remembered at the same time, it was almost spring and I really didn’t need it.

It’s got strange gloves in the pockets so I suspect she wore it, too. I like them, so she can’t have them back. Call it ‘rent.’

Scary side note: When I cleaned out my old classroom a couple of years ago, I discovered FIVE cardigan sweaters that I’d brought to school and forgotten about.


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