Saturday, August 12, 2006


Where has the summer gone!?!?!?!?

It seems like just yesterday that school was over, and I was looking forward to a long lazy summer, an opportunity to do some incredible yard work, the chance to get some projects done around the house – and BOOM!!!
All of the sudden it’s “Back to School” time…

Yup – I’ve got Inservice days on Monday-Wednesday, and Institute day on Thursday, and then the brrraa—err – students are back on Friday.

But seriously, I do love my job. My mother says I love teaching because it gives me a captive audience. Uhhhh, that’s true – but not all of it. Teaching also gives me some great material -- make that seriously great – material for stories.
Like this one:

Erlon could feel the sweat forming into beads on his brow. “Aw shit! Momma’s gonna kill me when I get home!” He thought frantically to himself, “I wonder if I should—“
“Erlon!” encouraged Officer Harris, “Just tell the truth. Do you have something in your backpack that you shouldn’t?”
“Hell no! Whys youse always pickin-“
“Erlon,” interrupted Mrs. Ratched, “We know you’ve got it. It’ll go better for you if you just admit it.”
Erlon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wiped his brow and answered, somewhat defensively, “Yeah, okay – I do have it. But-but-but, I don’t know how it got there. It’s not mine.” Reluctantly he handed his backpack to Officer Harris.
“Let’s go, Erlon,” Officer Harris said as he helped Erlon to his feet. He gingerly held the backpack with his left hand, keeping Erlon to his right, between himself and Mrs. Ratched. “We need to see Principal Bueller.”
“Aw man! Do we gotta tell him!?!?!? Can’t we just forget—“
“Erlon!” Mrs Ratched scolded, “You know the rules! This falls under the Zero Tolerance Policy! We have to take you to see Principal Bueller. We have no choice. You should have thought of that before you brought a—“
“Shhhhh!!” interjected Officer Harris, “Do you want to start a stampede?”
“Sorry,” mumbled Mrs. Ratched.
News had traveled fast that morning, and by the time the three reached the office, the entire office staff had made their way close to the Prinicipal’s office.
“Mr. Bueller—“
“Yes, Mrs. Ratchet!”
“Mr. Bueller” began Mrs. Ratchet, “Mr. Erlon has seen fit to bring an item to school that should not be allowed.”
“What is it, Mrs. Ratchet!” asked Mr. Bueller.
“Well, I don’t think I should be pulling it out right here in the office,” apologized Mrs. Ratchet. “Perhaps we should go all the way in your office.”
“Of course, Mrs. Ratchet,” replied Mr. Bueller. He led them into his office, and closed the door. “Erlon?”
“Mr. Bueller! I swear! I don’t know how it got into my backpack – I don’t –“
“Mr. Bueller,” interrupted Officer Harris, “Mr. Erlon was brandishing this thing about, scaring many of his classmates.”
“Is that true, Erlon” asked Mr. Bueller.
“Well, ahhh, yeah, but—“
“Well, Mr. Erlon. Let’s just take a look at how scary a thing this is,” replied Mr. Bueller as he reached into the backpack. “I mean, if it doesn’t look real, perhaps we won’t have to involve the authorities.” He removed the item, which was carefully rolled up in a shirt.
“Really?” said Erlon, beginning to feel somewhat relieved. “You mean, you might not have to tell my Mom?”
“Erlon,” chided Mr. Bueller, “Are you more afraid of your Mom than the cops?” He held the shirt up by a corner, allowing the shirt to unroll, and the item to drop on his desk. As it hit the desk, so did his jaw. For the item wasn’t a knife. Or a gun. Or a weapon (really) at all.
The item…was a 9 inch....glow in the dark...
battery-operated...multiple speed…….vibrator.

On second thought….I really am looking forward to school starting.

"We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives." Plan 9 From Outer Space


lecram sinun said...

Hey, it was just for show n tell!

Mintzworks said...

Yeah, I know how this story ends...

Mrs Ratchet: "Now, Erion, I don't want you to get into trouble, you're a pretty good student, so why don't I just, um, 'confiscate' this item, and we won't have to tell your mother at all."

Erion: "We won't??"

"No. However the officer and I will have to have a, um, serious conference in private about the item, say at lunch time, officer?"

And once Principal Beuller joined into the conference fray, all was well, Erion went on to get many many good grades in his class, and for some reason, Mrs. Ratchet was the happiest teacher at school EVER.

Theeeeee End.

Lacquer, Semi-Gloss Lacquer said... Phla, in at least one hospital downtown, and they have a 'wall of fame,' for all of the things that have been, um, extracted from areas of patients where the sun don't shine, lost during the heat of the moment..., along with xrays showing where they were found...
(the Medical field is a strange field...)

KFarmer said...

The world needs more teachers like you- that story LOL!

Song of the moment in head "I'm picking up good vibrations.."

Mustang said...

Wouldn't the strobe effect be disorienting? Like a flash-bang like most men, huh!


lime said...

LMAO!!! oh to be a fly on the wall.....

airplanejayne said...

Lecram - in case you've forgotten (now that you no longer teach) -- we don't have ORGANIZED show and tell in Middle School!

Mintz - sharing toys!?!?!? I NEVER share my toys.....except for that one time at band camp....

SGL - Hmmmm....perhaps I should start a Wall of Fame/Shame....

k- good vibrations, bop bop, ex-i-ta-tion, bop bop!

Mustang - Flashbang was my exhusband. I don't want no more stinkin flashbangs, 'kay?

Lime - I'd have liked to be a fly on the wall when he got home and had to tell Momma her glow in the dark math manipulative was gone....