Let's Call It A Mrs. Hillbilly Mom Sampler

The chocolate Mrs. Hillbilly Mom plucked out of the box on Friday was not her favorite. At least it was not the dreaded vanilla cream. But neither was it the preferred coconut enrobed in dark chocolate. It was somewhere in between, like a molasses chew.

A young man stood up before the bell rang to dismiss the class. He meandered along the side of the room.

"Sit down. You know the rules. Stay in your seat."

"But...I have a prescription to get up."

"Funny how I have not been notified by the office that you have that prescription."

"Sitting is bad for my health."

"Sit down."

"But I have a prescription!"

"I'm about to write you a prescription for a conversation with the principal."

"OH!"

"BURN!"

"SHE GOT YOU THERE!"

This class appreciates a good burn like a weathered-skinned, leathery-faced, career cowhand after a day of branding spring calves. Was I abusing my power, to speak to the youngster in this way? I think not. He knew he didn't have a real prescription for standing. I just wanted him to sit down. Could I have written up a discipline referral? You bet. His behavior was insubordination, bordering on backtalk. Would it be beneficial to have him spend a day at in-school suspension? No. My goal was achieved, and he knows I am not afraid to play the referral card. No harm, no foul, no hard feelings.

This tactic would not work with every class, or every student. There are perpetual victims who let everyone in hearing range know how put-upon they are when their phone goes off and I confiscate it. Because, you know, I'm all-powerful and can make that thing turn on and chirp even when they have it safely stowed away, battery removed, in their pocket. Then there are the head-butters, who would rather take a day of in-school suspension than be showed-up by a lowly teacher. "Go ahead. Do it then." You have to know your classroom clientele. By this point in the year, we are well-acquainted.

 I could teach George Costanza thing or two about a snappy comeback. None of this "Last night, I had sex with your wife!" stuff. That would be quite inappropriate for the classroom. Not to mention that very few pupils have wives, in or out of comas. It would also be inappropriate for me to inform them that the Jerk Store called, because it was running out of them. Even though I may be its all-time biggest seller. Yes, I get by with a little help from peer pressure.

Maybe next week, without that pesky full moon, I'll pluck a dark-chocolate coconut out of my box of chocolates.