The great thing about Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's job (for the 1/4 of the school year she has left) is that every day she has a laugh.
This afternoon, as stragglers were leaving Newmentia after last bell, two of my upperclassmen came up the hall from their lockers. Mrs. Not-A-Cook stepped out of her room and spoke to one of them. She's a special teacher, not a cook at all, and has a good rapport with her few pupils.
The girl upperclassman came through the double doors towards me. "I don't want to know! I am NOT part of this conversation!" She waved her hands dismissively, and scurried along to get away.
"I can't believe them! NO! I can't."
"Oh, that Mrs. Not A Cook! You wouldn't believe some of the things she's said, down through the years."
[Like that Halloween dance when a girl in a pirate costume came to show off her outfit, and Mrs. N-A-C said, "That's cute! How you even have the little beard." And as Pirate wandered off, her friend said, "That's not fake. She has a facial hair problem." You'd better believe I remind Mrs. N-A-C of this every Halloween.]
"Yes I would!' She hurried along toward the bus-waiting area.
Along came Mrs. N-A-C and the boy upperclassman. "I was just saying..." He shrugged, and went in the bus direction himself.
Mrs. N-A-C was laughing her fool head off.
"WHAT did you do now?"
"Well, he said, 'Mrs. Not-A-Cook, why didn't you and your husband have kids?'"
[Let the record show that she had kids, he had kids, and once they got married to each other, those kids were pretty much grown, and out of the house.]
"And I told him, 'I am 62 years old!' And he said, 'That doesn't mean you can't have an active sex life.'"
Oh, dear! Did you ever wish you hadn't asked something? I wanted some brain bleach! We need to have a dispenser of it in the hall. Just in case.