The chosen one

I've been in a meeting all day. About 90 minutes before the meeting ended, the receptionist came into the room. She got one of the attendee's attention by whispering into her ear. The attendee smiled, gathered her things, and left.

This reminded me of something I used to love when I was in grammar school. Getting to leave early. I'd be sitting in class, learning about social studies, or history, or my personal favorite, English, and the same scenario would happen. Someone from the front office would interrupt class by walking up to the teacher, whispering into his or her ear. The teacher would look around the room at the students, and our eyes would lock. Most often, I forgot that I would be leaving school early. Maybe I had a doctor's appointment, or we had dinner plans in the city with one of our grandparents. Whatever the reason, the teacher would instruct me to gather my things and go with the front office person.

It was always exciting. Even if I had to go get a shot, or if I had to get my eyes dilated at the eye doctor, or even worse, getting a cavity filled at the dentist. I didn't care. I was the lucky one. I was the chosen one. I was the kid who got to leave school early. The envy of everyone else.

It made me feel special.