It was a close contest today, my friends. Two competitors, neck and neck, rounding the curve, pounding down the home stretch, surging toward the finish line. Nearly a photo finish. But not quite. One clear winner emerged.
Yes, today was a red-letter, blue-ribbon day for kids saying things that made them look...um...how shall we say...less intelligent than they really are. You see, I am confident that the way it came out was not the way these students really meant to say it. They couldn't. Surely.
The first runner-up is...
One student was selling saver cards. Those fundraiser pieces of plastic that entitle you to benefits worth more than you pay. I have one myself. A couple of different kinds, actually. One is like a credit card that I can show and get a free Burger King chicken sandwich with the purchase of one. Or a free Big Mac when I buy one. There are other bargains, but those are the two we've used so far. Did you know that's a savings of more than $3.50 a pop? And there are unlimited pops until September 2013.
Anyway, this one kid was selling a saver card for a pizza chain. It was a little different, because it was a peeler card. Once you use a deal, it's done. The restaurant folks are supposed to take that little sticker when you use it. This card happens to have eight peelers. They're good for things like two-liter bottles of soda, or half off on a lunch buffet, or two dollars off on a pizza.
So...Runner Up agreed to buy one tomorrow. And Seller joked about him buying two. Runner Up said he couldn't. That was way too expensive. Seller said it wasn't. Because look at all the sticker deals you can get for your ten dollars. Runner Up stopped in his tracks. Leaned toward Seller.
"You mean you can use more than ONE?"
Sweet Gummi Mary! I was sure that one would take today's cake. But I was wrong, my friends. OH SO WRONG. Because not even fifty minutes later, I was pitched one high and outside, just where I like it, begging to be smacked into right field.
And The Grand Champion is...
I was pleasantly puttering at my desk, doing something trivial, like grading papers and entering them into my gradebook program, while the class finished up an assignment. And out of the blue, I heard, "Where do those people come from? Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, do you know? Those people who speak Arabic?"
Oh, dear. I couldn't help myself. She's usually such a bright girl. I'm sure she knew this information. She just drew a blank.
"Let's see. I'm going out on a limb here. But I'm going to say that the people who speak Arabic come from...wait a minute...wait for it...ARABIA!"
Thank you. They'll be here all week.