Would It Be a Felony or Misdemeanor?
It never occurred to me to call the police or anyone else earlier this school year when John, a 13 year old seventh grade student thought that he would get a few a laughs and disrupt my class (two birds/one stone) by farting as loudly as he could without breaking out the classroom windows.

The fist time he did it; I ignored it and continued teaching. The second time, just moments later, I gave him my “bitch-teacher” glare, but continued instruction. The third time, I stopped instruction and asked, “John, do you need to be excused?” When he said that he didn’t, I continued teaching. Finally, the fourth time he tried to peel the paint off the walls, I stopped teaching.

“How many of you know about the subjects of least restrictive environment and teacher certification?”

I received a dozen blank stares.

“The federal government says that students have to be placed in the classroom that addresses their needs. Some students need help with bathroom issues. This class doesn’t address bathroom issues. The state says that teachers who have to address bathroom issues have to have special training. I haven’t had that training, and I am not going to get that training. So if any of you, for one reason or another, can’t control your bodily functions, then I will have to call your parents for an emergency meeting so that we can move you into the class next door, or maybe even a special school, if your needs require it. Now, is there anyone in here with bathroom issues such as not being able to control your bodily functions that require teacher assistance?”

Amazingly, no one did.

“OK, then. If any of you decide that you need this special bathroom assistance, just let me know, and I’ll be happy to call the meeting.”

My strategy worked without police intervention.
https://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27898395/


Not Successful
Each school year, I’m granted three personal days. Since we were only scheduled for two days of school this week, and I knew that the kids would be squirrely as hell, I decided to take one of them today.

I spent my planning period prepping for the sub. Prepping for a sub is actually more work than actually staying around to teach, but I knew that this extra work would pay off this morning when I slept in (oh, how I love to sleep in), schlepped around the house drinking coffee in my pajamas until noon or so, and then cleaned house at a leisurely pace.

I prepped for this sleeping-in event. I didn’t set the coffee pot for the morning rush. I slipped on my favorite baggy pajama pants. I stayed up until 1:00 a.m., but I’d planned to stay up until 3:30 to watch Alton Brown construct a tiered cake. Oh, yes! I knew that I would awaken sometime between 9:00 and 10:00, stretch it out, and stroll into the kitchen to grind fresh coffee beans, while the rest of my co-workers were wondering how much longer they could hold on without break. I might even call one of them to rub it in.

“Guess what I’m doing?’ I would say.

“What?”

“I’m still in my pajamas, drinking my first cup of coffee. Playing a little kissy-face with the dog and thinking about a soak in the Jacuzzi.”

“I hate you.”

Then I would snicker, “Love you, too.”

The Sleep Gods knew my plans and realized that I was going to be a pain in the ass to some sleep-deprived working person, so they punished me. My eyes opened at 6:15, and I was even more wide awake than I usually am on a school day. I laid in be for a few minutes before deciding that I may as well get up and start the coffee.

I sat on the sofa, sipping on my coffee, and bidding farewell to the kids as they left for their respective schools and jobs. After they’d left, I heard the cat scratching one of the upstairs bedroom doors. Jean-Luc and I went upstairs and let the cat out of the bedroom, and I turned to say something to Jean-Luc as I started to go down the first step. The one foot that was on the ground suddenly slipped, and before I knew what was happening, I was falling down the stairs. About a third of the way down, I grabbed a spindle on the railing to stop the fall.

In the course of maybe two seconds, I scored a huge knotted bruise across my ass where I hit the steps, pulled muscles in my back, and the muscles in my arms and side are sore from stopping the fall.

I’ve taken it easy most of the day. I’ve thought several times that if I’d just rolled over and tried harder to go back to sleep, none of this would have happened. I must get more practice at sleeping in.

Have a great night!