CLOCK! I Said Clock, Dammit!

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Whilst teaching Language Arts and doing a dictation exercise, where they have to write a series of sentences given to them orally.  (Reminder: My kids have learning disabilities and are below grade level in reading…)

Me: “Robert needed to have his deck scrubbed before the event.”

D’Avonte: (snort)

Me: “What is your problem?”

D’Avonte: (laughing)

Me: “His DECK…he needed his DECK scrubbed.”

 

I Think It’s Safe To Say I Won’t Be Vicariously Attending Prom

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(A series of texts during the Spring Formal I was chaperoning last night.)

Ryan: Did you bring your ruler, so you can measure if there’s room for the Holy Spirit?

Me: If I sent you pictures of the way these girls were dressed, you’d send Morgan to a convent before she hits puberty.  I need a yard stick.

Ryan: What is your exact job at this thing, if they’re letting them in half-naked?

Me: It seems to be me walking around, using a flashlight as a method of birth control.

(Thirty minutes later.)

 

Me: Goddammit! I was right in the middle of the throng, and a fucking Beyonce song came on…

Ryan: That’s going to be the weirdest Worker’s Comp claim in the history of man.

Me: So…much…flailing…

(An hour later…)

Me: We should have made a High School Dance Bingo card for this thing.

Ryan: Has their been an awkward dance battle, yet?

Me: Check. And now two guys have their ties tied around their head.

Ryan: That’s a corner piece. You’re one girl crying in the corner, from a Bingo.

(five minutes later)

Me; BINGO!!!

Ryan: Congrats. The prize is that you have to call her mother.

Me: Fuck!

I Know…I Shouldn’t Be Feeding This Behavior.

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allllllll-by-myself

Whence your 16-year-old texts you from class…

Caolinn: Can I get my belly button pierced next winter?  Pleeeeeease?

Me: Shouldn’t you be in class?  WTH is going on at that school?

Caolinn: I’m in choir.  It’s a joke class.

Me: Well, I think we’ve established why you have a B.

Caolinn: She’s literally spelling out choir terms.  She just spelled singing.  Would you be mad if I jumped out a second story window to get out of this, because she just spelled ‘choir’?

Me: They’re your legs, but I’m not wiping your ass for you, so take that into consideration.

Caolinn: She just spelled ‘soprano’.  WTF!?

Me: Mark my words…’alto’ is next.  Wait for it.

Caolinn: Winner!

Me: I think we can agree that no one is winning in this scenario.

Caolinn: Truth.

We All Know This Guy…And Someday He’s Going To Drive A Very Big Truck

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Xavier: “There’s this kid, Luke, in our class, and he’s such a jerk.  He’s constantly starting fights with people, but he’s the smallest kid, so people can’t beat him up because they’d get into trouble.”

Me: “Well, maybe the reason why he’s always starting fights is because he’s so much smaller, and he’s feeling insecure.  It can’t be fun being the smallest boy in the seventh grade.”

Xavier: “But then he shouldn’t TRY to make people mad all the time!”

Me: “Think about how it would feel being him, when everyone’s getting bigger, and you’re still small.  Put yourself in his shoes.”

Liam: (whispering) “Yeah, Xavier…put yourself in his teeny tiny shoes.”

Don’t Get Me Started On Unexpected Boners

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One of the many things you have to negotiate when you’re teaching, is that you’re either constantly trying to hold in a fart, or trying to control a classroom full of people who failed at the same.

Student: *farts with a look of abject horror and embarrassment*

Me: “Sweetie, it’s okay, everybody does it, and if you didn’t do it, you’d explode, and we’d all miss you very much.”

D’Avonte: “Yeah, but we won’t miss the smell.  The fuck did you eat?”

At Least He Knows His Music

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To give some background, Liam has the world’s worst math teacher, whose failed grading policy was offensive to me both as a parent AND a teacher.  Seriously, if I tried to explain it to you, your head would explode, but suffice to say, because of her “system” 80% of her students were failing her class.  I had a meeting with the entire admin and grade level, where I laid out the stupidity of the policy, and now…amazingly…my kid is passing math.  *eye roll*

Ryan: “How’s Liam’s math grade?”

Me: “Well, he’s mysteriously gone from an 55% to an 89%.”

Ryan: “Does he seem happier in the class?”

Me: “I think the ship has sailed.  He doesn’t say anything, but that kid can hold a grudge.  I think he hates her.”

Ryan: “How can you tell?”

Me: “He hums Carmina Burana when he does his math homework.”

Ryan: “Yup.  He hates her.”

If Any Of You Are Looking To Score…I Know A Guy.

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kckfwff

Caolinn: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m googling some old students.”

Caolinn: “Awwww, that’s sweet.  To see how they’re doing?”

Me: (incredulous look) “To see who’s doing time, and what they were arrested for…I have some bets to settle.”

Caolinn: *blank stare*

Me: “Keep disapproving; if Danny Jones has been picked up for drug trafficking, it’s worth a twenty.”

 

(And before any of you judge me, *Danny Jones was arrested for dealing cocaine IN FIFTH GRADE.)

*Clearly, not his real name.