We returned to school today.
The beginning of the end was fairly uneventful. With the exception of gaining one new student and losing three old ones. I hate to see them go, once I have become accustomed to their idiosyncrasies, and they to mine. Might as well post-snub your pony and then turn it loose. Train a new employee and then lay him off. Create an intricately-decorated pastry and then feed it to a sixteen-year-old boy.
Only one poster had fallen off my wall. Nothing was missing. None of my electronic accessories had been rewired. The laptop worked, the projector worked, the sound worked.
The only fly in the ointment of my instructional day was the drying-out of an Expo blue dry-erase marker. You know what THAT meant. Putting in my benchwarming Quartet blue dry-erase marker. He's not nearly as skilled as Expo. He's not a team player. Hogs the spotlight. Won't get off when his turn is over. I had to send in a clean-up crew of Babe E. Wipe to clear off the mess Quartet has made on the playing field.
Tomorrow, I'm drafting a new blue marker.
4 comments:
Dry erase markers. They're like crack to teachers.
If you see me hunched-over at a street corner, don't think I'm peddling drugs.
No, I'm just trying to earn extra money by selling black-market ware I snagged from our school vault.
Masking tape. Staples. Post-its. And of course, Expo markers.
Okay, Sioux, I knew it!!! It is you selling the cases of kleenex I have provided to all the school systems over the years! I sent 6 kids to school ....... that's a lot of kleenex!
Good to know the day back was a good one.
Sioux,
Oh, ye who toil in the land of milk and honey, vaults overflowing with office supplies the likes we poor country folk have only dreamed of in the aisles of The Devil's Playground. Must you flaunt it so?
***********
Kathy,
Sioux is even willing to farm out her little upper-LEFT-hand-corner name-writers to classrooms like mine, which run on hopes and smiles and STRICT RULES OF CONDUCT. Because she's a giver like that.
No, Kathy-of-Klothesline Kountry--
We teachers do not sell the facial tissue you parents send in. We hoard them, to sop up the tears of joy we flood our faces with every day because every day at least five children express their wish to be an empty (or partially empty) vessel...and they're just waiting to be filled with knowledge.
We also weep with joy because there is a constant stream of parents who express their gratitude for the effort and the time and the skin elasticity we have sacrificed as we do our jobs.
Yes, we have a great need for those tissues you send it, but we never sell them. The tape and the black Sharpies, yes. The kleenex...no way.
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