Fire

Picture this.

4am.
Dan is getting home from work (he goes for an hour to unload the truck for his deliveries he does during the day).
I'm laying face down on the bed with my head between two pillows, drooling ever so beautifully onto the sheets.
Roxy (our dog) starts running all over the bed, apparently very excited that Dan is home.
I continue to drool until she steps on my leg and I hear Dan talking to Roxy.
I wipe the drool off my face and turn over so I can see Dan.
Seeing that I'm awake, he says, "So the house down the street is on fire."

It takes a moment for me to realize he's being serious.
Then we go outside and, sure enough, there are a couple fire trucks and a few police cars at the house on the end of our street.

I have no idea what happened (no, the house didn't burn down) but it made for a very interesting way to wake up.

In other news, I have now taught a whole lesson in an actual elementary classroom.
First grade at East Elementary.
I'm feeling a little better about teaching now.
Thank heavens.