No matter what the
little man on a ladder (no, that is not a euphemism for a body part) tells me,
I know that Newmentia is slowly poisoning me.
He came in this
afternoon, right while Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was getting down to brass tacks.
Okay. Not actual brass tacks. She tries not to have them in her classroom, what
with teenage fingers so itchy to acquire them and place them on Mrs. HM's chair. Not that they ever have. Mrs. HM is projecting, remembering her junior high school days when some ne'er-do-wells (but not little future Mrs. Hillbilly Mom) put tacks on the piano bench during 7th grade choir. Though she did laugh along with the rest of the class to see her teacher, wearing the dress she always wore (Jerry's girlfriend with the Superman dress had nothing on little future Mrs. HM's choir teacher with her red-and-blue polyester creation) traipsing around with shiny tacks winking from the backside of her wardrobe.
Yes, the little man with the big ladder (you know what they say about a little man with a big ladder--he's obviously compensating for something) strolled right in, climbed up, poked open the ceiling tile, and removed a red plastic bucket.
"Oh. It's not very full at all. But I could imagine it filling up and dumping on some kid's head."
Well. That seems to be a safety violation. How dare he place Mrs. HM's class (and her very self) in harm's way.
"I don't know what's blowing out of these vents. But every time the air kicks on, I have a sneezing fit, and my eyes start to water."
"Huh. I don't know what that could be."
He gave a look that said Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was completely crazy, that nothing in Newmentia could possibly contain allergens that would spray out into a classroom and cause such a reaction. Even if it happened every single time the air conditioning kicked on. And there had been a bucket in the ceiling catching drip water from a clogged drain for over a week.
He might as well have poured that bucket-water down Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's leg and told her he was peeing.
See? You need to show them you're a survivor... that you can rise victorious, no matter what they throw at you. You need to take back your retirement, so you can show them that no matter what toxic not-heaven they have dripping or blowing in your room, you cannot be knocked down.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteNice try. I see what you did there. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom will not reconsider. No matter how much she would like to stick it to The Man.