Wednesday, October 21, 2009

More From CharityGate

Well, now. Little E from yesterday's story about making my $10 for a fundraiser candle disappear was at it again today. Before she even entered the classroom, she ganged up a gaggle of her classmates in my doorway. Not because she is OH SO POPULAR, but because she was standing right in the doorway, blocking entrance. "Your ten dollars was stolen." Give me a break. "No. I paid my ten dollars to you to buy a candle. After that, it was no longer my money, but yours. I don't have ten dollars to steal. I have a candle." She insisted that it was my $10. I sent her into the classroom.

That meant that when the bell rang, I had to go in and lecture the class on not clogging up the doorway, being IN their seats when the bell rang, and not yelling out things at me just because I walk into the room to start class. Because they were whipped into a frenzy by something. I blame Little E, but it could possibly be the storm that's moving in tonight.

All through class, Little E, who sits right by my desk in a terrible coincidence of alphabetical roulette, tried to talk to me. No pretense of doing her work, just turned around in her seat, dangling her legs over the back rest, trying to jaw with me to infinity. She personifies The Never-Ending Story. Topics included how she hates her stepmom, her dog, her neck scar, her quietness at home, her buddy E-Friend who stole 'my' money, and other stuff that I was able to tune out.

Chill, Little E. There are 24 other students in this class. You do not have a monopoly on my attention. It is of no consequence to me that E-Friend stole that $10 that you were responsible for to buy my candle. I don't care that she was caught red-handed with the $10 on her yesterday, and that she isn't here today, and that you don't know why Mr. Principal didn't give you back 'my' $10. Life is not a Tweety cartoon, Little E. Just because Granny whacks Sylvester over the head with a broomstick and pries open his mouth to extract Tweety, and then leaves Tweety alone with Sylvester again, does not mean that you are going to be trusted with that $10 now that it was 'found' on E-Friend. You are Public Enemy Number One where fundraiser money is concerned.

Or else your story is bogus.

After telling Little E approximately 37 times that I did not have time to chat, Little E came to me in the last five minutes of class, as I was strolling around the room trying to avoid being a captive audience for her.

"Are you staying after school?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm staying after. Isn't this science day? I'll be in here."
"No, you won't. I don't do the afterschool program. And yesterday was science day."
"Oh. Well, what day is it? I'm staying anyway."
"It is language day."

Guess who waltzed into my room at 3:10? Yep. Little E. I was trying to enter some grades and copy and paste parts of next week's test so I could rush off to the bank before #1's practice.

"Why are you here?"
"I want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk. I am busy."
"You need to leave."

Little E left. I don't know where she went. I don't know if she went to language day. I don't know if she went to get on the bus. I don't know if she was abducted by aliens giving $10 rides in their space ship.

I am not a personal attention-giver. I can lock up shop and hit the road at 3:10 like over half of the faculty. But I don't. I stay to work. The kid was in class 50 minutes trying her attention-sucking repertoire. She said nothing about a matter of life and death. I see no need to indulge her needy behavior. I don't drive to her house and barge in without knocking and interrupt her while she's counting her purloined $10 bills. Nope.

There are limits. I will not be stalked.


DeadpanAnn said...

That candle better smell good.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Miss Ann,
I'd better get a candle! It's supposed to be Apple Pie.

Stewed Hamm said...

After all this hassle, it better be stuck in an apple pie.