Dishin' out the dirt

I teach kids about dirt.

It's true. I teach 1st and 3rd graders about soil. They get to touch 4 different types of soil with their hands, look at them with their eyes, sniff them with their noses, and listen to them with their ears. They even get to learn all about the four ingredients that make the perfect soil, and then right there before their very eyes, we actually make the perfect soil.

And the kids cheer.

Loudly.

Every time.

I'm not gonna lie to you - it's pretty magical.

A couple of weeks ago, I took my show on the road. I drove an hour and a half away to teach 100 kids about soil. When I got there, I realized I had forgotten something.

My dirt.

Did I mention I was over an hour away from my museum?

Now, before you get so sweaty palmed that we could grow rice in your hands, I was able to improvise with some sand and clay I just happened to have on me.

But here is the question: How could this have happened to a seasoned professional like myself?

Let's get all Nancy Drew and investigate the evidence at the scene of the crime.

You see, that same weekend my honey and I were co-hosting a party, so I had to remember to borrow the card tables from the museum, and then the following Monday I was scheduled to teach a new program on the constellations of the ecliptic, and so I needed to remember to bring home the lesson plan, card stock, laminating sheets, and laminating machine. And then "this shark chased us, and we tried to, but we couldn't, and he 'Grrr!' and we 'Whoa!' and then we were safe. But then this seagull came and it was, 'This is this and that is that...'"

I had too much going on.

And it's in those times that I often forget about the most important things, like being nice to my husband, calling to say I will be late for an important appointment, spending time with my God, and even packing a ginormous orange tote full of soil.

And I know you. You're busy, too.

So I'd challenge you to pause a moment and ask yourself: Got dirt?