CHALK

I have seriously been negligent of the old blog, I know... but to make it up to ya'll I figured I'd share a cute end of the year story.  

Somehow in school, secrets never stay secret for too long, and for those who did not know I was pregnant they found out when one of students yelled out in the middle of class- MISS! YOU HAVE CHALK ON YOUR BABY!!!!!  

And sure enough, there on my slightly puffy tummy, was chalk, I must have somehow brushed my stomach up against the board while I was writing!

Pop Quiz.

Question:  Who is SpongeBob?

Answer: NOT a sponge from the kitchen sink that FELL into the ocean and was made into a cartoon character.

Scenario:  I passed out a worksheet today that I adapted from another teacher at my school, and in an effort to make learning "fun", it features SpongeBob SquarePants and SpongeSuzy RoundPants as parents.  The object is to make Punnet squares with their genotypes and figure out the probability of their kids getting RoundPants or SquarePants.  One of my students took one look at the worksheet, and very seriously said (in AWE), "I didn't know SpongeBob was Biology."  Later conversation informed me that all my kids thought SpongeBob was a sponge to clean pots and pans with.

Reasons why I did not pass the MTEL

1.  I do not know why prime numbers when added together, squared, multiplied by 7654982456 then divided by 10 to the 52nd still stay prime.

2.  I must have been asleep in history when they taught about World History...and possibly U.S. history as well.

3.  I do not believe elementary students should have to study the reason why the dictionary impacted our society.

4.  There were far too many answers that I marked "C".

5.  I hardly used any "A's".

6. I cannot explain two ways the Civil War changed U.S. policy.

7.  I wanted to spend another 200 bucks next time they offer the test.

8.  The reason that a triangle inside of a cube under a circle has lateral area of 15bhpie plus 42mxy is the only formula I forgot to study.

I teach Rockstars.

Two stories that will warm your heart...

First: 

One day last week, one of my outrageously dramatic students, (who really should take to the stage), BURST into homerooom, STOPPED, and threw his hands in the air, all while doing a little twirl.

All this because he got his hair did.

Priceless.

Second:

A conversation that makes me feel that I may be a TILF....

Student:  Miss, can I take you out to dinner?

Me:  Ummmmmmm....... welllllllll....... Um, well, My husband wouldn't really like that too much.

Student:  What if I ask him?  If he says yes, will you let me take you to dinner?

Me:  I don't think he will say yes.

Student:  Well, what if I brought you out to dinner near the school, I will pick you up there and drop you off there.  

Me:  No.  I really can't.  Thanks for asking though, that's very flattering.

Student:  I'm ALMOST 18 Miss!!!! Give me a chance!!!!

Good God, these kids are crazy!

How cutting my hair is a life-altering experience...

...for my students I mean.

Students:  Miss!!!!   You cut your hair????!!!!????

Me:  Is that a question or a statement? 

 

My Silent Thoughts:  Obviously...it's like 4 inches shorter...

Students: (in unison)  WHY!!!???!!!!

Students: (all at the same time) Oh My God!  But I liked it long! You look ugly now! Why???  I told you to grow it out!  It's short!  Oh No!

My Silent Thoughts:  Did your boyfriend break up with you/ your gramma die/ your foot fall off/ your cell phone break/ your world end due to a 4 inch haircut?  Sorry I had no idea of the impact I have on global warming and natural disasters.....

Because there is nothing teachers like better than lists.

Things I have learned about myself over February vacation:

1.  My body wakes up naturally at approximately 8:25 each morning.

2.  I love my job. (When it's february, april, christmas or summer vacations.)

3.  I am not smarter than an elementary school student.  (Ask me for my results on the General Curriculum practice test.)

4.  I am not an alcoholic.  I do not in fact NEED a drink at 5 pm on the dot on days that school is not in session.  ::PHEW::

5.  I love learning.  Disclaimer:  When I am not shoving it down the throats of 15 year olds...

6.  I miss my kids. (hahahah, this one is not true- just wanted to see if you were paying attention!!!!)

Self realization is a beautiful thing.

To commemorate a favorite story

A few days ago we had our Valentine's day dance.  Aside from the dry heaves in reaction to the gross displays of affection among the sweaty high school kids in a darkened, hot, smelly cafeteria, I also experienced a trip down memory lane.  

Last year, at this very dance, right before february vacation, some of my favorite teachers and I experienced a situation that was so ridiculous, it has been the material for many jokes since.

It was nearing the end of the dance, when a mom pulls up in her car outside the cafeteria.  Her son gets out, and some other kids show up, apparently they were going to fight.  News travels fast and suddenly, the kids at the dance flood out the back doors in hopes to catch some of the action.  All hell breaks loose and us teachers rush outside to break up the fight.

Well, mom doesn't like this at all, so she gets out of her car and starts yelling.  When she sees one female teacher trying to pull some kid off another kid, she starts screaming- "WHO THE F*$@ IS THIS B!#*+?"

Apparently, by trying to save the lives of deluded adolescents, we have pissed off the very mature mother.

The mother then gets in her car and accelerates as fast as she can through the throng of fighting kids, nearly running over 3 teachers and a dozen students.  She only nabbed one kid, running over his leg.

This apparently satisfies her urge to kill someone, and she screams at her son to get back in the car.  He does, and they speed off.

Thank God the police force didn't come down and help us out.

All joking aside, this was a horrific experience, but come on!! How funny is it that now we can all yell the phrase "WHO THE F&$# IS THIS B*%$#@" whenever we get mad at someone!?!?!?!?

XOXO to all my teachers who know this story well and lived to tell it.  Till the next time, x to the o-