Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Head Bubble Head

Something odd happened to me last night. Something kind of...eerie. Kind of paranormal. But I'm not talking about it now. You'll have to check it out tomorrow, or Friday, or whenever I get around to it. By then, it will not seem like much. That's fair warning.

Tonight, I am giving equal time to Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's thought bubbles. What does she really think as she minds her pupils day in and day out? And can it be said that the majority of teachers feel this way? Or is Mrs. HM an anomaly? How many other teachers even know what anomaly means? You won't find the answers to many of those questions here, but read on.


I'm not ready.
Why do you crowd in here at the stroke of the bell?
Don't you have a life?
Get back!
Why do you creep forward like that?
Your desk is closer to the whiteboard than MY desk.
Drop it. Do not pick up that stapler if you're not using it.
Hey! Your backpack just wiped out that box of Kleenex.
That's because that other Creeper closed up the aisle.
Stop fishing for answers.
Cut the cord, baby. Look it up.
No. Don't even stand up.
Will this interminable class ever end?
Sure. You'll turn it in tomorrow. Sure.
Why do I give you time to ask questions?
You're not cute. I don't want to hear it.
Stop saying 'fag'. Now I'm going to have to tell you out loud.
I don't have change for a dollar.
I don't have gum.
Ask a real question and I'll help you.
What is the answer? is not a real question.
Can you get any more annoying?
I am tired of entertaining you.
Why does this room smell like old farts?
Don't take the bait.
Buy your own school supplies. I lose a pencil a day.
You'd better give that back.
If they would start checking lunch cards again, I'd hold yours for ransom.
I don't care.
No. Don't start one of your boring stories.
They never end.
Just nod. Pretend to be listening while you record scores.
Get away. Separate. You're practically doing it right there at the desk.
Now I have to tell you, which will make everybody look.
New rule. Must leave one empty desk between lovebirds.
I wonder what's on Google about the elections.
New girl? What's the point? Only 22 days left.
Everybody show off now, so tomorrow we can work.
You amuse me. I like a good laugh. Without being disrespectful.
Stop taking advantage. Your class is not fun. Too may shoulder chips.
Find your book. I don't loan them. Do without. It's homework.
Stop acting like kids. Settle down.
I have a captive audience for my stand-up routine.
For 3 hours a day. The other 3 should be held captive until they're 18.
I'm glad I'm not your mama.
Plan time is for planning. Or for reading Google News.
Not for you to drop in for work you have missing. Do it on time.
I hate 6th hour plan time.
If you've failed this subject twice, how can I reach you?
I am not a miracle worker.
I am short-changing the foreign exchange student.
She will get over it.
I hate this duty.
Not so much the duty, as that my group stuck me with it.
They don't have it before AND after school.
I am such a malcontent.
That's how I roll.


Time to burst my bubble.

4 comments:

The Unrepentant Gallivanter said...

It is a wonder anything gets done in class, what with all the kids' and your thought bubbles floating around invisibly in the air. Hey, maybe as they vaporize they make that weird old fart class room smell?

Marshamarshamarsha said...

http://photobucket.com/images/happy%20bunny/
I find that the Happy Bunny character covers many of the thought bubbles in my lab here. Many, many of the thoughts.

Hillbilly Mom said...

UnGal,
You got that right. I have a little list of what went on yesterday, a typical day. Maybe I'll get to that post tomorrow.


TriMarsha,
I like the bunny expression, "I'm not mean. You're just a sissy." It's the motto that I live by.

The Puzzler said...

...Plan time is for planning! This is good stuff, coming from a teacher who sounds more ADHD than students.