I have always considered myself to be a calm person. In fact, I have often prided myself on not letting things get to me. And this is pretty much most of the time. I am that person that most people love to hate: you know, the one who jumps out of bed, perky… without caffeine.

However, my so-called, calm persona was sorely tested recently as I ate my lunch while sitting in the park-like Quad on the campus where I work. I had just unwrapped my sandwich and settled in with my ‘book du jour’, when what appeared to be a hundred first-graders seemingly came of out nowhere, on what I could only surmise was a nature walk. 

So excited to be outside I suspect, that they forgot to use their ‘indoor’ voices, they shrieked and stumped through the falling leaves. Some stopped to pick up a couple of leaves… and smelled them. One boy stuck a leaf up his nose. Two girls decided to wear a few leaves as hats. Their teacher must have thought singing would curtail some of their excitement at being outdoors. Not.

She began by asking if it was anyone’s birthday, or if any of them had a birthday coming up soon. One little girl thought that she had one in four; no five; no, two more months. And she thought that she would be 12. No, that wasn’t right. She held up 9 fingers. Nine years old in the first-grade: surely not. A couple of the boys thought that was really funny, and that it justified tickling each other.

Seemingly unfazed, the young teacher started off singing the Happy Birthday song, immediately joined in by the children. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, Megan, Happy birthday to you. Three more children realized that their birthdays were coming up within the next week. Another round ensued. Happy Birthday day to you. Happy birthday Justin; Aquafina; Jason; Happy Birthday to you.

Then one little tyke in a plaid dress with red tights said that she thought that it was her cat’s birthday. And although the cat was not there, she thought that she should get a birthday song too. Not again, I think. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you.  Happy birthday dear Fluffy: Happy birthday to you.  How many choruses are there to 
Happy Birthday? How old are you, how old are you? Oh no: aren’t cats supposed to have nine lives? 

Another boy said it was his turtle’s birthday. And, no the turtle was not there either.
So it was the turtle’s turn. Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday Mr. Turtle: Happy birthday to you.  Shaquita thinks it is her grandma Irene who lives in Baltimore, birthday. Dear God: make it stop, I think. 

People tell me this bothered me because I don’t have children. They say if you have children, a little noise doesn’t bother you; that you learn to tune it, and everything else out.  Maybe. All I know is that day I felt like screaming. And not in my ‘indoor voice.’