When I was a kid we played a pool game called Alligator Bait. For all of you deprived people who aren't familiar with the game, there is an "Alligator," which is traditionally known as being "it." The alligator/it person stood on the diving board and after yelling Alligator Bait (which typically came out like Allllll-i-gaaa-torrrrr Bait!), would dive off the board and attempt to catch the "bait" before they could reach the other side of the pool. At the start of each round, the "bait" would line up along the wall of the shallow end of the pool and listen intently for the key phrase. But you had to listen carefully 'cuz that sneaky, silly gator would often yell the wrong word, just to see who could be caught off guard. Allllll-i-gaaa-torrrrr Bake! made ya jump...heeheehee... Allllll-i-gaaa-torrrrr Bang!...gotcha again, heeheehee. Being the impatient person I am, this annoyed me to no end, but of course when the tables were turned and I was "it," I played the same way. That is if I didn't call a time out for a bathroom break, or just quit all together, which is what I often did when I was "it." But cut me some slack, I was the youngest of the 9 grandkids and often played with my brother's older friends too, so if I was "it" I was stuck being "it" for awhile.

I feel like I'm caught in a adult game of Alligator Bait this week. As I mentioned last week, I've taken a job as a reading tutor at a nearby elementary school. I'm really excited about it, the hours are great, the pay is respectable, the commute is practically nonexistent...but try as I may, I can not get anyone to yell Bait! so I can push off the wall and start swimming. I'm in the pool, at the wall, one hand on the side, legs tucked under me, feet ready to push against the side for a strong start...just yell Bait already, would ya? Allllll-i-gaaa-torrrrr Processing Delay...Allllll-i-gaaa-torrrrr Snow Day...Allllll-i-gaaa-torrrrr 2 Hour Delay Makes the Day Hectic So Let's Push It Back One More Day. Three times I've expected to start, three times I've been deferred. Should I consider this a sign? Have I been pitched three strikes before I even had a chance to swing? Nah, I don't think so, but if Friday comes and I'm still sitting at the wall, it might be time for me to towel off and go home!