Ewwwwww.

School hasn't officially started yet, so no amusing kid stories.  But don't worry, I cause enough chaos all on my own to keep the ball rolling here.

Yesterday morning my beagle got really sick.   Like, throwing up nine times sick.  I thought he was dying.  Of course, yesterday was my first day of meetings, so I couldn't really not be there.  I made the decision to bring him with me to work so I could keep a closer eye on him.  The second we got into the car, he instantly became happy, rambunctious dog again.  He was relatively okay all day at school and I took him to the vet as soon as I could.  After running $200 worth of tests, the vet diagnosed him with a serious G.I. upset, probably caused from eating something he shouldn't have eaten.  In case you are unaware, beagles are notorious for garbage-digging.  So I paid up and took him home, pumped full of fluids and anti-nausea meds.

This morning, the beagle seemed fine.  He was sitting on my bed while I got ready to leave.  We got brand-new staff t-shirts yesterday with the intent that we were to wear them at our back-to-school carnival so parents would know who staff members are.  I was not going to wear mine until the evening because wearing something that I need to keep clean all day invariably leads to me spilling something on it.  Inversely, if I wore a different shirt during the day and changed at night, the likelihood of me NOT spilling anything is 100%.  Math never lies.  I folded the shirt and left it on the bed, ready to put in my backpack, while I brushed my teeth.

The beagle puked on my shirt.

Panicked, I ran through my options in my head:

1.  Wash shirt in sink and pray that it dries in time for evening event

2.  Wear a different shirt to the carnival, confusing parents and aggravating my boss who bought the shirts specifically to be worn at the carnival

3  Wipe it down and wear it as is (not really an actual option, because gross)

4  Throw it in washer and drier at home, which would delay departure by at least an hour and cause me to be late to school

5  Find laundromat near school. Wash and dry it between meetings and event.  Seems smart.  Problem: no laundry detergent or cash on hand. 

5.  Call teammate who lives five minutes from school and beg her to wash my shirt and bribe one of her children to move it from the washer to the dryer during the day.  Have teammate pick up shirt while picking up children.  SOLD!

I remain hopeful that should you attend the carnival tonight, I will be wearing my new shirt.  The beagle is not invited. 

Apparently We Need to Focus on Empathy

Two small things from today:

First of all, a student said (creepily), "When you die, I'm going to scatter your ashes as far away from me as possible."  She had just given me a slushy, however, so I'm hoping that I have nothing to worry about from her.

Secondly, we were watching E.T. in class today to study product placement.  Yes, really.  We got to the scene where E.T. is dying and Elliot is crying, and a girl starts laughing.  LAUGHING.  I gave her the stink eye, and she said, "I can't help it!  It's just so cheesy!"  Some of the other kids turn around and told her to be quiet, but one kid announced, "I don't care if he dies!  It's just a movie."

It's going to be a looooooong ten days...

The Ice Cream of the Future!

I had never had Dippin' Dots (the ice cream of the future) until I went to Cedar Point with my students six years ago.  My co-worker, who we'll call Mr. Skywalker, introduced me to these delicious frozen treats.  I admit, I was skeptical at first, but he persisted and soon I was won over.  The only place I have ever seen them is at Cedar Point, so now my visits to the amusement park are spent hunting down Dippin' Dot vendors and consuming as many different flavors as possible in eight hours.  Here's what they look like, in case you have not been made aware of the future of ice cream:

The cookies and cream are my favorite.

In unrelated news, apparently one can BUY a Dippin' Dot machine:

I have a sneaking suspicion that homemade Dots would pale in comparison to Cedar Point ones.  Plus I'm lazy.  But it does please me that such a contraption exists.

This isn't the point of my story though.  Our annual field trip is on Thursday, so of course I have been informing the students that they need to bring money to purchase Dippin' Dots and then send selfies of themselves consuming said Dippin' Dots to Mr. Skywalker, who has since moved on to another school.  It will make him CRAZY and make me laugh.

As I was informing the students of their assignment at the amusement park, one student raised her hand and said, "I don't like Dippin' Dots."

As I began to give her the stink eye, another student at the back of the classroom stood up and yelled, "SHE'S A WITCH!"

Really.  Full-on Monty Python.

Then in the mass chaos that follows, I heard another kid say, "Dippin' Dots do weird things in my mouth."  Apparently he was relating what his MOTHER says about Dippin' Dots, but I think it's funnier without knowing that part.

I Just Want To Bang On The Drum All Day

Disclaimer: I have a very good relationship with my students.  They know that most of what comes out of my mouth is total nonsense, especially prior to 9:00 A.M.  No drummers were hurt in the creation of this post.  Really.  Idle threats, all of them.

I am fairly certain that the entire percussion section of the seventh grade band is in my homeroom.  And when is band?  Immediately after homeroom, so the drumsticks are omnipresent.  The rule is that drumsticks are only to be used on, you know, drums.

There are no drums in my classroom.

Do you honestly think, for even one second, that there is no drumming occurring in my room?  I mean, really.  IT IS CONSTANT.  These kids drum even WITHOUT the sticks.  I know, because I had to ban them from my room after band class.  FOR OBVIOUS REASONS.  The drumming and tapping has been driving me insane all year.  In fairness, the kids themselves warned me that they liked to tap even before they became seventh graders, so it's not like I wasn't prepared.

But this morning, there was drumming.  I do have a stool in my room that is roughly the same size and shape as a snare drum. Apparently it was too much temptation for this particular drummer to resist and the madness began.

Me, standing outside my door in the hallway:  I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO COME IN THERE AND RIP YOUR ARMS OFF, BUT SO HELP ME....

*drumming comes to an immediate halt*

Fellow non-percussionist classmate standing in the hall with me:  That wouldn't solve the problem.  He'd just drum with the stubs.  Or use his head to bang on the wall.

#truth.  Kid's got rhythm.

I Don't Think That Word Means What You Think It Means

It's Teacher Appreciation Day.  YAAAAAAY for teachers!

Because my school rocks, we actually get an entire WEEK of appreciation.  I am lucky enough to work at a school where the parents and administrators spoil teachers rotten during this week.  We have lunches every day, presents, cards...it's almost too much.  Almost.  I like to think that I've done my time--most of the other schools I've worked at might send an e-card at the end of the week.

One of the fun activities we have during this week takes place during our morning assembly.  One teacher from each hall competes in a silly game of some sort.  The winner gets to spin a wheel to determine his or her prize, which could be a jeans day, free lunch, or even getting to leave early.

I have never won.

Today, the lucky winner spun and received a pass to leave early.  My homeroom students, who by the way had mocked me for screaming, "WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!!!!!" when the wheel came out, asked why I couldn't win one of those passes.

"Because I possess neither luck nor ability," I replied.  The students continued to encourage me to attempt to play tomorrow, which seemed suspicious.  "Why do you want me to win?" I queried.  "Why are you trying to encourage me so much? Are you finally starting to appreciate me?"

"If you won a pass to leave early, maybe you could use it to come in late instead.  And then you'd miss our class."

"But I've missed your class like four times out of the past seven," I pointed out.  I was out of town.  Then sick.  Then at a doctor's appointment.

"Yeah, and it's been great!"  was the reply.

We need to work on defining "appreciation," apparently.

Therefore, I will be appreciating Star Wars tomorrow loudly and with relish.  And I shall be involving some homeroom students in the celebration against their will.  To show my appreciation and all.

I Think They Nailed It

We have started our poetry unit in seventh grade.  Today's assignment was to write and present a group list poem (which is pretty much what it sounds like).  The topic given was "School" in any way, shape, or form that they chose.

Apparently I never learn.

One particularly devious clever group came up with this gem, which I present for you in its entirety along with my commentary in italics:

Ms. Whiston

The demon shark flies over our heads.  There is an Air Shark loose in the room

Our security system is a beheaded unicorn.  True

Handles rats like a demon boss.  I am a demon boss

Threatens us to join the Dark Side.  This is why my light saber is red

Her birthday is year round.  I haven't taken down a birthday sign from November

When we're gone, we need to bring her presents.  A genius rule, if I do say so myself

Makes [the math teacher's] room look like heaven.  Her room is definitely cleaner than mine

Uses The Force to threaten us.  Can't deny this

Her rodents keep their red beady eyes on us.  There are no albino rats in my room

Then Yoda came to save us one day.  He did.  He talks, fights, and everything

But he was too late.  Yep.  The damage has been done

Note the use of repetition, the descriptive language, the use of simile...

April Fools (?)

First of all, let me say that whoever made April 1st coincide with the last day before spring break ought to be forced to teach seventh graders on that day.

*vent over*

I am not big into pranks on April Fool's Day, mostly because I see no point in only fooling people on the day they're expecting it.  But I saw an idea on a blog I follow which interested me.  I tweaked it a little bit and got the principal in on it.  The idea was to tell my homeroom that I had played an epic prank on the principal this morning, but I didn't want to reveal any details because she hadn't discovered it yet.  The kids asked if she would call me when she found the prank, and I replied, "Undoubtedly."  Then I waited for the phone call from the principal.

As planned, she called and pretended to be furious with me.  The kids could only hear my half of the conversation, but it basically involved me denying all responsibility for the prank, her telling me I went too far, me pointing out that there were students present and we should discuss this later, and her saying she'd be down shortly to discuss the issue further.

The kids were pretty nonchalant about it.  "Did you get in trouble?"  one student asked.

""Meh," I said.  "She'll get over it.  She didn't really need that desk anyways."

A few minutes later, the principal and the dean came into my room and escorted me out.  We then got a box and I came back in and started emptying my desk.  Again, the kids barely even blinked.  I walked out of the room with my box, head down, not making eye contact with anyone.  Kids are LAUGHING at me.  The principal went back in and pointed out that they probably wouldn't be seeing me again, so maybe they shouldn't be laughing so much.  No dice.

Finally, we gave up and I went back in.  One child had already appropriated my rolling chair.  And my garbage can was on my desk.  Either we need to work on our acting skills, or the kids really would be fine with me leaving.  I had been worried about damaging their fragile psyches, but I needn't have worried.  "We figured the principal was pranking YOU," they said.

So a fail.  The only person who was fooled by our little skit was one of the other teachers, who thought I really was being fired.  Which was funny in hindsight, but I doubt she was amused as she watched me walk out with my box!

I also got blamed for a prank played on another teacher.  A bunch of students snuck in and sticky-noted his entire room.  THE ENTIRE ROOM.  I played no part in the execution of this prank, although I may or may not have provided a key.  BUT STILL.  There's no trust.

Adding insult to the injury, I knew that a bunch of seventh grade girls have it in for me were attempting to prank me, so I was on my guard.  I even locked my classroom door when I went to lunch, glorifying in the look of panic in their eyes as they realized they wouldn't be able to get in my room to enact their devious plan.  "Mama didn't raise no fool," I commented as I walked past them on my way to eat.

Silly me.  Silly, silly me.  I should have realized that there are an ABUNDANCE of people with keys to my room who were more than happy to unlock it.  This is what I came back to:

I had to bribe my next class to help me clean up.  In related news, I am pretty much out of tissues now.

Good thing I have a week to lick my wounds  plot my revenge relax!