Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Flirting, Flu, and Teeth

Today was a weird day. One of our classes had to get the "You are only in 4th grade. Your job is to come to school and learn, not chase boys, write notes, or flirt" speech. Lucky for me (sneer), I have the immature class! So, we will continue to have our regular "Come to Jesus" meetings as needed on other, more repetitive subjects such as being respectful to adults, avoiding the use of words like "crapface" or "the A-word" and actually doing and turning in homework, despite the fact that there are no grades or punishments. Without discipline, management or grades in the school, I have become the master giver of the Come to Jesus talk. I can lay the guilt on as thick as a Jewish mother. At least once a week, I mention the likelihood that I will certainly lose my job if they don't shape up. This technique usually works for at least a whole day.
Then...then! in the height of flu season, I got in trouble for sending too many kids to the nurse (3). We received one of those nasty school-wide emails that you just know are directed at one person, but you think she means you. It turns out she had to see FIFTY sick children today. Fifty! And her being the nurse?? Who would expect that of her? Silly nurse! Your job is to see all the sick children! It really cut into her time spent sending us email forwards we had to delete, so it actually improved my time on task.
Oh, gross, I forgot this. So, age ten is apparently when all your big teeth start falling out. As in the big honkin' blood spurting molars at the back? Yeah. Well, I don't do teeth. Teeth totally repulse me. I hated losing them as a kid for two reasons. One, because they were a part of me and it made me sad to see them all dead like that, so I saved them all in a TicTac box. (I'm very well adjusted, no?) And two, because the feeling of a Kleenex squeaking around a wiggly tooth hanging by a thread made/makes me want to blow chunks. I have no problem with blood. It's that Kleenex against a tooth. Shudder. Have you ever held a clean towel between your teeth for a second? BLAGH! Revolt. Nasty. Foul. That squeaky scrapy sound? Yeah. So, young man in my reading group today squeaked his out with that nasty tissue right in front of me. At my table. During a reading passage. One minute it's "Roald Dahl Fighter Pilot and Author!" comprehension, the next it's...spurting. There was definite spurting. All I could think about was the bloodbourne pathogens video we have to watch every August. And children love to show me the progress they made the night before- "Hey Mrs. R! Look how far I can turn it!" or "Look! It'll turn all the way upside down!" Then they invariably head for a tissue.
So that was a big part of my day. Now I'm home and relaxing and Gus the Beagle is staring at me mournfully, so it's time for me to entertain him for a while. At least his teeth don't fall out. Well, they did. When he was a puppy. But dog's teeth literally just fall out. On the floor. And being a beagle, he ate most of them. That's what children should do.

3 comments:

Jen said...

I'm sure you are aware, but in case not ... the link to my blog and Hipteacher's blog on your blog do not go anywhere. Just thought you should know. And thanks again for adding me to your list. I have now added you to mine as well!

saRah said...

i hate the feel of a towel on my teeth too. i remember as a kid, i used to run my tongue over the then-toothless spot and it felt rea weird in a very icky way.

sarah
http://www.tabulas.com/~shireen

katielady said...

Grody to the Max! :)

I hate it when people get irritated about doing their job. Like school nurses. Or secretaries. Or ITS people at work (sorry katiebonk, no offense!). Or drug store employees. Or prissy restaurant hosts too busy flirting with the cute, and so totally gay, bartender.