One morning before the children arrived a coworker informed me that there was an outbreak of chicken pox among the students! My colleague insisted that everyone at work was getting chicken pox, even the adults! The cold weather was bringing a ravage of chicken pox to the area and the entire country.
I was aghast, “Good god, will the children really continue to come to school with a
epidemic at foot? “. I had a few hours to prepare for the morning’s
lessons. I devised a scheme to avoid contact with the zombie children. Before the arrival of the germy ones, I patted my Chicken pox vaccine scarred shoulder and put my faith in the common knowledge that adults don’t get chicken pox.
As they cheerly poured into the school, my eyes scrutinized their adorable faces. I was scanning for the stigmata! My imagination churned that under there Disney shirts and pig tails they were harboring malicious pox. The pirate pox were waiting to board me and ransom my health! I wanted to shoe the healthy children out of the school and rescue their Christmas’ from a vicious cycle of scratching, but from the unassuming faces of the parents, I deduced that they had all conspired together to stew the pox together and the kitchen for their stew would be my class room!
As the lesson commenced I decided that I was just going to have to risk it. I asked my manager what the Japanese word for chicken pox was, she told me “chicken bumps”, just as she said this a young teacher corrected her and told me that actually the children had “goose bumps” from the cold! GOOSE BUMPS I was safe!