Have you heard? Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's room is the new Wonderland. I know! I was not informed, either. I figured it out, though, by the behavior of my pupils this week. It was like a whole new ballgame, instead of extra inning number 14, at the end of the season, when players and coach are well-versed in the rules of the contest. Yep. This week was a whole new ballgame. Like watching five-year-olds in a town-league T-Ball tournament, the rules as foreign to them as the instruction manual for a Boeing 787. In Portuguese.
Yes, it seems that various items in Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's room were sporting signs, visible only to adolescents.
EAT ME. Individual cereal packets smuggled in by one pupil, and tossed to two others.
DRINK ME. Iced coffee carried in despite the year-long coffee embargo.
PUT YOUR BUTT ON ME. The rolly chair that has been off-limits to pupils for the past 172 school days.
WASTE ME. The Puffs With Lotion bought from the hard-earned direct-deposit digits of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.
DRAPE YOURSELF IN ME. The fleece blanket wrapped around the shoulders of one who should have dressed more appropriately. Or simply dressed more. (Contrary to popular opinion, NOT velvet, as a certain Humpty Dumpty With a Melon Head was wont to drape himself in.)
TRIP ON ME. The backpack in the main aisle by the windows.
WEAR ME. The aviator sunglasses brought to school by a scoffrule.
BOUNCE ME NUMEROUS TIMES AGAINST THE FLOOR WHILE WALKING AROUND THE ROOM. A tennis ball kept on Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's desk, designated for official testing of project.
ABANDON ME BY STOMPING OFF IN A HUFF. Project reduced in points due to rule breakage.
CRY ME A RIVER. Score of project reduced due to a group member breaking rules of equipment handling immediately upon the final measurement.
LAY ON ME. The floor, which is off limits to body parts other than the feet.
USE ME OVER AND OVER AS IF I BELONG TO YOU. The dry erase marker at the whiteboard for writing the group score next to the group name.
LEAVE ME ON TOP OF A DESK WHEN THE BELL RINGS. Scissors who call the back table home.
LEAVE ME INSIDE A DESK WHEN THE BELL RINGS. Wooden ruler who normally cohabits with the scissors.
TURN ME AROUND TO USE AS A HIDING PLACE. Desk whose opening belongs in the front.
SNEAK ME FOR A SNACK. Bag of little chocolate donuts carried into class willy-nilly.
UPROOT ME AND LEAVE ME ON THE OTHER SIDE OF MY WORLD. Chair from a back desk left at the front of the room.
BOUNCE ME OVER AND OVER ON TOP OF YOUR DESK SO I MAKE LOTS OF NOISE THAT CAN EVEN BE HEARD IN THE HALL. Ping pong ball carried in pupil's pocket for some mysterious reason.
SKIP MY CLASS, BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH I TOLD YOU NO, I WON'T MISS YOU WHEN
YOU DON'T SHOW UP UNTIL HALFWAY THROUGH THE HOUR. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's
forehead.
TAKE AN ATTITUDE WITH ME BECAUSE I DON'T STOP A CONVERSATION WHEN YOU BUTT IN. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's forehead.
ARGUE WITH ME ABOUT THE ATTENDANCE POLICY, WHICH I HAVE NO SAY IN, BECAUSE YOU WERE UNEXCUSEDLY ABSENT, ALTHOUGH ACCORDING TO YOU IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT THAT YOU GOT UP TOO LATE. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's forehead.
Wonderland is such a magical place. All that labeling to take the guesswork out of rule-breaking. A new pattern seems to be trending:
Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's forehead is the new billboard for invisible signs.
2 comments:
There are signs in my classroom as well.
"Tear up the teacher's books."
"Use up the toilet paper (we ran out of bonafide facial tissue a long time ago) like it's water."
"Break pencils to the point that we need a gross of them sharpened every day."
Aaah, good times.
Sioux,
Who knew those kids could read so much better than we imagined? Not Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.
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