A bit too much bit

Today in class a teacher teacher read from a book called “Thank you Mr. Falker” which I snickered a bit because it reminded me of a couple of movies from a couple of years ago that played on a similar name.

As far as the movies went, I could have done without the play on swear words. I get it, they have an ironic name that does nothing to advance the story, and your son has an even more unfortunate first name that, again, does nothing for the story.

As far as the book goes, it turned out the name simply represented a particular young teacher who made a difference to a particular little girl who turned out to be the author of the book my teacher teacher read from.

By the end I was tearing up a bit. Not in a way that I put too much salt in the macaroni one time for H when she was little and we ate ice cream instead, but in a way that a bit of a hug can make the worst of a day the best day ever.

I was tearing up a bit, but not because it hit close to home, although it did, and not because it was the end of a long day, although it was, and not because I knew I would come home to a parking ticket that was a bit too expense, because I didn’t.

It was because it was the last class on the last day of the first week I realized that I have found something that I could absolutely be happy doing for the rest of my life.

It was also because the author who had been teased because she learned to read a little bit later than the rest of her class had become an author of stories about children that made eyes teary on grownup boys.

I think the girl sitting next to me, who shares Slice’s middle name except uses it as her first, might have felt nearly the same because she was the same little bit choked up as I was teared up.

The teacher teacher sent us on our merry way to find a children’s book of our own to share with the class which was fair to do because all I can think about it Mr. Falker.

Falk. Now what do I do?