The Blender’s Bargain (The Appliance Uprising Series, #1)

The ancient artifacts in this museum have been buried for centuries, but that’s nothing compared to what David has dug up from the depths of his nostrils. I close my eyes, let out a long suffering breath, and tip my head back. There’s always one kid in the group that has to make a field trip into an exercise in patience.

It’s okay, Archie. It’s Friday and almost summer vacation. I just need to hang on a little longer and then sweet, sweet time off will be all mine.

As our museum guide prattles on about Lataran history, I watch in dismay as David’s finger embarks on yet another mining expedition into his nose. I stifle a sigh, wondering how an eight-year-old can find so much to excavate up there.

Don’t get me wrong, I love each and every one of my third graders, but spending a day with thirty-five kids hyped up on fruit snacks in a museum is enough to make anyone question their career choice. Some days I feel more like an archaeologist than a teacher, carefully sifting through snippets of knowledge and debris of snack foods to uncover any signs of learning in these uncharted young minds.

And right now, the only thing David seems to have discovered on this field trip is how deep his nasal cavity actually extends.

I approach David quietly from the back, place my hand on his shoulder, and lean down.

“David, pay attention,” I say, and drop my voice, “and keep your finger out of your nose.”

He jumps, startled by my sudden appearance and quickly removes his finger from his nose, flashing me a guilty grin. I shake my head, trying to suppress a smile. Kids will be kids, after all.

The museum is a vast expanse of white marble and white-washed walls, splashed with vibrant colors from the ancient artwork on display. From tapestries to sculptures to paintings, the museum is alive with culture and history. I actually love coming here. History is my favorite subject. But I prefer to come alone so I can amble through the halls and take my time reading all the plaques.

A low hum of conversation percolates throughout the museum, punctuated by occasional whispers of awe or wonder at some of the artifacts on display. My gaze falls on a display case across the room. It holds a set of beautifully crafted Lataran swords, ancient weapons wielded by the planet’s original inhabitants.

The guide gestures at the display case. “Come take a look. These swords were forged many years ago by the Latarans, the earliest known inhabitants of this region. We have discovered very little about these ancient people, though we believe they were masters of metalworking, as evidenced by artifacts like these swords.”

The students crowd around the case, oohing and aahing. Their faces glow with wonder and curiosity about these mysterious ancient people who lived so long ago. All except for David, who is once again exploring the cave of wonders that is his left nostril. For crying out loud. He is testing my patience today.

I sidle up to David again. “The Latarans were warriors, you know,” I say. “Legend says they were so fierce, they used swords like these to pick their noses.”

David’s finger slowly withdraws from his nose. That’s right, buddy. I’m watching.

I have to cover my mouth to hide a grin. A little imagination goes a long way with third graders.

Teaching third grade is no less exhausting than wrangling two dozen over excited puppies most days. But despite the sore feet, aching backs, and the thrill of breaking up yet another argument brewing by the water fountain, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Their tendency toward mischief and antics, secrets and whispers aside, these kids fill my days with laughter and purpose. Still, I’m looking forward to my date tonight. I need a break from these kids.