God Luke

I think I need a drink. A big one. And some therapy. The writing test is tomorrow, but you'd think that it was a full moon and the kids each drank a vat of Surge before coming to school today. They burst into the room like a herd of wild monkeys on crack. My theory has always been to go easy on them the day before the test; the last thing you want is a whole mess of kids seeking revenge on their "mean teacher" via their test score. Unfortunately, my kindness theory went right out the window when Stifler skateboarded (yes) into my classroom. Skateboarded. Into the room. On a skateboard. I kindly steered him over to his locker and gently uttered to him that if he ever did that again his tail was toast and smiled kindly as I patted him on the helmet. Hard.
We had planned some fun writing rotations for the kids to help them review and relax at the same time. You'd think. Instead, the change in schedule completely freaked them out. I wrote on the board: Do not switch classes. We will be rotating to all 5 teachers today. You do not need anything but your snack. Have a seat and relax until 8:35. (friendly smiley face)

Kid 1: Is today the test?? [wild look in eye]
Me: Is today Tuesday? The test is Tuesday.
Random Kid: The test is today?! Hey guys! Did you know the test is today?!
Kid 2: Do we need a pencil?
Me: Read the board.
Kid 3: Why aren't we switching?
Me: Read the board.
Kid 4: Do we switch?
Me: Read the board.
FWK:Do you like string cheese?
Me: Sit down.
Kid 5: Can we still have snack?
Me: Read the board.
Lowest writer in class: Mrs. R! Guess what? I'm moving!
Me: [hand flies to throat, heart begins to pound. Could it be? Have I been saved?]
LWiC: ...Saturday.
Me: [of course you are.] And we'll miss you pumpkin. Sigh audibly.

Et cetera. On and on and on until they went to specials. Amen. Then we did the rotations. Mine was a neat little ditty in which we revised a story about riding a rollercoaster and improved its content. Good times, right? Every. Single. Class. Wanted to put vomit in the story. Vomit. Did they glean inspiring tips from the lesson about adding snapshots and visuals and emotions? No. They talked about vomit. Each class thought they were the first to come up with it too. "Hey! Let's make the brother puke when he gets off!" [copious laughter] "Ooh, Mrs. R! What if the kid hurls barf on someone behind him?" [copious laughter] "I got an idea! How about if the kids blows chunks off the side of the rollercoaster?" [copious laughter] Har dee har har. I gave them my most withering You Are Such a Clever Little Monkey Stare until I grew increasingly irritated with each round of puke proposals. Unfortunately for my fifth class of the day, they received the brunt of my fury. [Insert a tone much too sarcastic for school here.] "Do you really think it would be a smart idea to write about puke on the writing test? Do you really? Are you serious? Hmmmm?" I added several witty examples of sentences about vomit for their listening pleasure and asked if that was really appropriate for a test they only had one chance on. No, they decided that was not the brainiest route to take. They cleverly decided fun time was over and finished the story meekly, praising my revision efforts. I made a conscious effort to be nice to them for the rest of the day since my rage really was only 1/5 their fault.
At the end of the day we did one of those feel-good esteem boosting activities that my principal likes to see. It was called A Pat on the Back and it involved the kids writing compliments to one another about their superior writing abilities on papers on each other's backs. Sounds good in theory. Until I noticed that my dyslexic student had written (in large letters) "God luke" on everyone's paper. Sigh. I bet he blows the roof off this test tomorrow! God luke to all of us!