My classroom supplies are taking a beating.
We've gone through a box and a half of Puffs With Lotion this week, and it's only Thursday. This morning, I set out a new giant bottle of Germ-X. I know there's a sickness going around. My own little Pony had the sniffles since Saturday. He's on the mend now. Hasn't needed tissues much since Tuesday.
Let the record show that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is not one of those teachers who send home a supply list asking for a truckload of tissues, a 55-gallon drum of Germ-X, enough glue sticks to lay end-to-end from here to California, a banjo for my knee, an eye of newt, a dozen four-leaf clovers, and a partridge in a pear tree. Nope. Mrs. HM has no supply list. She spends her own cold hard cash on accouterments for her classroom.
I don't begrudge the kids a good nose-blow when they're sick. And Sweet Gummi Mary, let them cleanse their hands after doing so. I try not to make a big deal of consumption of consumables, as long as nobody is tossing tissues into the air as practice for juggling magician scarves, or cutting up a bundle to make confetti. I even held my tongue today when I saw a little gal grab roughly a third of the box of Puffs and stuff them into her purse, even though it was the last class period of the day.
I DID have a few words to share last week with the young man who used a generous dollop of Germ-X to clean the soles of his sneakers, polishing them with Puffs. He apologized much like George Costanza, to the effect that if he had known that was wrong, frowned upon, even, he would not have done that.
Imagine my surprise today when Shoe Boy and an accomplice were seen more that once at the Germ-X trough today, thoroughly giddy and giggling, as no student enjoying a science lesson should be. And yes, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom did unleash her pointy tongue to tell them, much in the vein of Julia Sugarbaker, that in the future, one must realize that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom does not look kindly upon people who fill their hands with Germ-X, fill them in a cup shape, to overflowing, and carry it back to their buddy, and somehow let it all drip onto the floor, where it lays in glistening globs, awaiting evaporation, so that in future days, it will collect every smidgen of dirt and grime that come within its magnetic pull, resulting in dirty spots across the industrial tile floor, which Sweet Gummi Mary only knows how and when will be cleaned, what with Cus no longer with us.
I think that tomorrow, I will put away such childish things as Germ-X and Puffs.
Let them eat cake!
No. Wait. I'm not giving them cake! Let them use see-through school toilet paper right off the roll, and give themselves a spit bath for cleanliness.
My name may not really be Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, but neither is it patsy.