Snow Ball Fight

With a predicted high of 35 degrees Fahrenheit, the indoor temperature was sure to be even colder along the unregulated hallways.  The prospect of sitting outside the classroom for 45 minutes was not a cheery one as I considered the second period one-on-one reading test that would occur.  As I approached the entrance to first year class 7, I was relieved to see the dear OL (Office Lady), whom I regard as a friend, setting up a heater per my earlier request.  I tried to express my heartfelt gratitude, for I knew that the kerosene heater was heavy.  I made a mental note to bring my own light weight electric heater for the remaining test periods in the week to come.

As I entered first year class 7, I noticed several coats dripping with snow and gloves that appeared covered with a layer of ice.  "What have you been up to?"  I asked no one in particular.  No one bothered to answer as they crammed as much information into their brains as possible before the test began.

As the students came out, one by one to read to me, many seemed grateful for the heater and scooted their feet closer to it. I noticed several without socks.  I asked one young man where had his socks gone.  He replied, "They got wet."  

When the bell rang and second period ended, the team teacher for this class, Ms. K, approached me with the written tests she had collected.  "You may have noticed many students were wet," she reported, "Apparently they were playing in the snow.  Several students' dripped water on their test papers.  They asked for new ones, but I didn't think you had enough extras and I think they're still legible."  It bewildered me that an entire class of 32 students could have gotten themselves soaked through with snow before the lunchtime free period.

When the 2:50 afternoon bell sang out that it was cleaning time, I trudged towards the chapel, key in hand.  As I approached, I saw the boys from first year class 6, the students who were my cleaning charge, throwing balls of snow at one another.  And in their midst, I beheld the petite figure of Mrs. T, dodging and throwing with them.  The puzzle was solved.

I bent down before anyone saw me, scooped up a handful of snow and threw it right at first year class 7's home room teacher.  And thus I joined the battle.