Even though it has been almost two years since I’ve stood in the front of a classroom, I still can’t stop thinking of time in 43 minute increments. Why 43 minutes you ask? Well, that is the length of time for a class period at school. For example, if I happen to glance at a clock at 9:30, I automatically think that there are about four minutes left in second period.
Based on that statement you might assume that I am still pining for my old day job. Sure, I would love to be able to teach again, but I am currently quite happy with my new job. I love the hours, the commute is way shorter and my boss is cute and adorable. It’s good work if you can get it.
Every morning I watch the boss eat her breakfast. She usually offers me some and of course, I always accept. She never forgets to feed me my gummies, but only after she makes sure that I’ve finished all of my oatmeal. When it comes time to pour an Ensure down my tube, she is right there taking mental notes for when this task becomes hers.
The boss lady is constantly pointing out her observations to me, and I always give her the courtesy of my undivided attention. On the occasion that she expects a verbal response, I do my best to indulge her. She asks each question in such a way as to require only a yes or no answer. Once in a while she will have my answer for me — like when she asks me if I want some pudding, she inevitably knows that I will say yes so she saves me the trouble.
I love to hear her speak. The next thing she says is better than the last thing she said. I hang on her every word –and as you know she has a lot of them.
I am so fortunate to have this opportunity to watch my little girl grow up on a daily basis, I almost forget the reason why I have all this time to spend with her. ALS may have forced me out of the classroom as a teacher, but my days as a student under the tutelage of Miss Emma are only just beginning.
RING! That’s the bell. Time for third period.
Typed by Blue Eyes and Leannie “Comma Happy” Oakley
The Adventures of ALS Boy 
gorgeous and sentimental loveletter to your daughter. Priceless.