Well guys, it’s that time of the summer: school is getting ready to go back into session. My friends at my former job are back at it today. This one’s for you!
At the end of the school year, I did a student edition of the Wake Up Call to celebrate the end of the school year. To celebrate* the beginning of the school, let’s do a teacher edition, shall we??
*I always love the first day of school, but I’m a little odd.
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And I just kept shouting and banging on the desk, “Pony Boy couldn’t get hard! Pony Boy! Couldn’t! Get! Hard!”
As I walked past a table of students, one kid stood up and, in his typical fashion, was all over the place. He threw his arms back, and one softly smacked me in the boob.
I let out a high-pitched, “Oh!” Then I stopped, flabbergasted, a look of horror on my face, I’m sure. However, I didn’t want a riot to break out with this realization, so, my face burning, I continued walking and talking as if nothing happened.
I couldn’t tell if he had realized it had been my boob, and no one broke out in giggles, so if he noticed, he was as mortified as I was.
I ignored it and moved on, but my face was still warm an hour later. *Shudders.*
His name’s not circus, but it looks like it is.
A boy in my classroom was talking about how flexible he was or something. Someone must have questioned him, and he decided to demonstrate. He plopped down on the floor and pulled his legs up over his head. If that wasn’t weird enough, he was wearing, like, swishy pants, so you could see an outline of his, um, stuff.
The kids all started laughing, and I jumped in, panicked and shouting, “Ok, ok! Get off the floor!!”
I felt so bad for him, but I was also super uncomfortable.
That girl is like a wolf. She’s a bitch… I’m kind of scared of her.
– about a 6 year-old
There was a paragraph about touching yourself, and I just held the book up over my face and read, “The Bible says you should not touch yourself, and so when you have ideas about touching yourself, you shouldn’t.” And then I just held the book up in front of my face for another five minutes because I couldn’t look at theses 8th graders’ faces.
And, finally, for my assholes– you know who you are.
It’s fucking 12:30 and I’m two margaritas and two shots in.
-Teacher, the day before first day of school
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God bless teachers.
For anyone who’s going back to school this week (or if you’re already back in school), may the odds be ever in your favor!
P.S. One last thing: If you love teachers (they do mold the mind of your children/ keep them out of your hair all day long/ deal with a lot of BS, so, um, you should), think about making a donation to help a spectacular teacher (who just happens to be my mom) raise money for materials for a new STEM curriculum. Click HERE for more information or to make a donation.