Portrait of a Contract Therapist

I carry three big, overloaded bags around to my sites.

The bags spill all over my trunk so there are always toys, cards and coloring books rolling around.

I'm always looking for good cards in the dollar bins that I can turn into speech tools.

I raid my girls' toys and coloring books and anything I can wash down and return to them later.

I travel to a daycare in my police man brother's side of town....

I eat lunch at the Sonic that gives previously mentioned brother the "creeps". The Sonic gives my police man brother the creeps? Then he explains that there was a shooting during a drug deal there last week. Okay, glad it's noon and not dark!

I lock all my belongings and anything that looks tempting from the windows in the trunk.

I sit on the carpet that I watch them mop, yes, mop the carpet, each afternoon.

I break out my worn, fraying Webber Artic Drill book that I'm so glad I took home that one day when Park Nicollet was throwing it out. It has saved me a ton of money!

I listen to the provider tell me that my kiddo is doing better-she sang along to "Shake the Devil off" last week-whatever happened to twinkle twinkle little star?

I get my next kiddo as her classmates yell out, "[kiddo], yo mama's here!"

I listen as the classroom next to ours starts blaring Michael Jackson because it's forty degrees, way too cold for Arkansans to have recess outside!

I watch as my kiddo breaks into dance yelling "bee-ya! bee-ya nie!" as "Thriller" comes on in the next room.

And I love my job....at least one of them!