Monday, April 28, 2008

In The Classroom

Just a few days ago, in reference to my Bubble Head posts, The Unrepentant Gallivanter commented that it's a wonder any learnin' is goin' on in Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's classroom, what with all the thought bubbles floating around. In my defense, I would like to relate one particular day last week when there was a significant amount of learnin' being passed around. Not the book-learnin' kind of learnin', though. The 'school of common knowledge' learnin'.

The morning was relatively tame, as school days go. I asked my first hour class how many thought the room was too hot, how many thought it was too cold, and how many just didn't care. Then I jumped the uncaring bunch who dared raise their hands, because if they didn't care, they wouldn't have voted at all, and to me it smacked of being smart-a$es. Only not in so many words, of course.

Second hour, a girl said she told her mother that I was stalking her. Which is just plain ridiculous, because the last thing I want to do is be around these kids after the final bell releases me from their company. She is the one who announced one day, "I cut myself. But not in the Emo way." She has an odd sense of humor. Her stalking point was that I want to be like her, and try to dress like her. Which is again quite ridiculous, because I hate orange and would never wear it because it makes me look like a corpse. But I didn't tell her that, because you never know when somebody's relative has just died, and that 'corpse' comment would seem callous if they knew the meaning of 'callous' OR 'corpse'.

During the same hour, a girl complained that she was cold. Too bad, so sad. It was 73 degrees. I took one look at her flip flops and barely-fingertip-length shorts and barely two-inch-wide strapped tank top, and announced, "Then wear some clothes." She took it well. We are sympatico. She borrowed a navy blue hoodie, and within 15 minutes announced, "It's hot in here." The boy behind her, a former Extortionist in the Great Hall Pass Caper, declared, "Then take your clothes off." He immediately heard what he had said, turned red, and stammered, "That's not the way I meant it to come out."

The day went downhill from there. At the lunch table, my cousin-the-language-teacher had to comment on my food. She does this pretty regularly, and I would be offended if I didn't know her motive. I think she secretly wishes she had MY food, instead of what is in front of her, which lately has been Lean Cuisine type frozen meals. I, on the other hand, have such delicious fare as Southern Fried Breast Fillets from the freezer section of The Devil's Playground. She leaned over to me, eyed my breast fillet, and said, "You know, that would be really good with Aloe Vera sauce." Hmpf! Why all the hate, Cuz? Even her stammering statement of "I meant to say Alfredo sauce" was not enough to bury the hatchet.

So I did what any self-respecting teacher of freshmen would do, and told my class right after lunch that their language teacher had tried to poison me. That guaranteed her three classes of students quizzing her on why she had attempted murder with Aloe Vera during lunch. Heh, heh. (Insert George Bush laugh and smirk here).

After lunch, the Waldo kid complained that his mp3 was missing. It had been missing since first hour the day before. That's his MO lately. Waldo himself doesn't disappear and pop up again--his belongings do. His wallet, his cell phone, his glasses case...you name it, he's 'lost' it. His buddy announced, "A missing mp3 is like a missing child. It is gone." All the kids looked at me. "That's cold." But Buddy stood by his statement. "It's never coming back. Just like that show 'The First 48'. If you haven't heard anything in 48 hours, it's never coming back." Which left us all thinking of an mp3 in a shallow grave somewhere.

Then I let a kid go to the bathroom, and when he came back in the room, he said, "Not to be rude or anything, but this room smells all fresh-like. Normally it doesn't, but something smells very fresh and clean." To which I replied, "That's just my breath."

Thank you. I'll be here all week.

1 comment:

DPA said...

When's your last day? Did I already ask you that?

I have 18 days to go.