Reason 121

The Olympics. Nope, not the real Olympics, filled with bobsled disasters, steroid scandals, and really heinous fashion statements. I'm talking about the faux Greek Olympics the sixth graders take part in every spring at my school in conjunction with their Social Studies unit on ancient Greece. For the past three years I have headed up this spirited extravaganza and been saddled with such grueling tasks as building doric columns out of cardboard and butcher paper, hunting down a giant Frisbee to use as a discus, and deciding which sport the teacher-leaders should be forced to participate in - chewing frozen gum and then blowing bubbles or racing the length of the gym while using hoola hoops as jump ropes? Decisions, decisions. Jason, if you ever want to host an Olympics-themed party for every middle schooler you know, I am your go-to gal. I have extensive knowledge of crabwalk etiquette, a cheap connection for authentic looking medals that won't break the bank, and access to a tissue paper flame that looks real from 50 feet away. I also look pretty hot in a chiton (look it up). If you don't quite have the energy to throw your own soiree, you are always welcome to join a polis at my school and compete. Sure, the other kids will whine about the injustice of a grown man vying for gold in the long jump, but they need to learn early on that life just isn't fair. They should thank their lucky stars we aren't taking a cue from the Spartans and leaving the weaker students on a hillside to die. Ah, the good old days.