A Big Ol' Crap Sandwich

I've had a real crap sandwich of a day. Without any special sauce.

The #1 son started it off when he made sure we didn't leave on time. Oh, it was 3 minutes earlier than the other days this week, but it was NOT the time I wanted to leave. We missed that by a grand total of 9 minutes. Which translates into about 15 minutes, by the time you account for the extra traffic and the school bus to wait behind.

That meant that I didn't have time to prepare for the day, but only time to rush out to my parking lot duty. Then #1 fiddled and faddled about an answer to a specific heat problem on his science worksheet in my class, which I could not explain instantly because I had not had time to work out the answers before school because he made us late.

My next class took the Unpleasant Trophy for the day, talking out loud and getting out of their seats and kicking my doorstop out into the hall as they left, so that I had to go get it except that one little hoodie-wearer was in the process of kicking it down the freakin' hall, so I had to holler at him to stop kicking it and bring it back when he was right in front of the office, which kind of tells you his opinion of school rules. Tomorrow, that class is going to be dismissed one row at a time. Because I can.

The next hour is my small helpy class, and after helping one of them with solving for two variables for Algebra, I went to make 25 copies for an afternoon class, which I would have done this morning, except that I was late getting to school on duty day. Of course the copier jammed up with 6 copies left to go, so as I was fishing the errant paper out of that one, I put my 6 copies through the other copier, which promptly jammed up, necessitating a detailed extraction of numerous shredded worksheet tidbits. After cleaning THAT up, I called shenanigans on those sucky copiers, and hoofed it up to the office to use the very special copier that never jams.

Lunchtime was a cacophony of Loudmouth G jawing with vociferous LunchBuddy, who sat right next to me, with Mr. S on the other side orating on some subject which held no interest for me, but only served to grate on my aural nerves.

After lunch, a new kid thought it was perfectly permissible to stand across the room and chat with a student who was doing what was expected, which was sit in his own seat silently while I took roll and discussed the lesson. Chastisement due to this incident and a couple from the previous day led to a spite of handraising, to declare when called upon, "But we love you, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom!"

My junior class got a shortened assignment thanks to the required (!) data match forms that had to be filled out and collected for the student council fundraiser in February. After handing back yesterday's papers, which were not good, and going over the material on the board with diagrams of the phospholipid bilayer and plasma membrane molecules with the phosphate head and fatty acid double tail and glycerol backbone, one young lass was heard to inquire, "Since I got them all right yesterday, do I have to do this assignment today?" Which was quickly answered by Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, with, "Of course you do." And wouldn't you know that she was the one to complain that she did not understand this concept at all, and needed help, spurring a front-row slacker to exclaim, "She just went over all the answers on the board!"

Just before the juniors datamatched, my phone rang for about the 4th time, a call from Lower Basementia, where The Pony had just vomited, to inform me that he would be going home with his grandma. Then it was plan time, which consisted of discussing the basketball team with the custodian who was in my room before the tardy bell even rang, then discussing the basketball team with the secretary, who had to get out of the office and spied my vacant classroom, and feeling The Pony's forehead when his grandma brought him to get his stuff out of T-Hoe, and grading the morning assignments plus odd and varied make-up work, and getting ISS work together to send, and entering grades in the computer.

By then it was time for 7th hour, where 4 kids asked to use the bathroom without being tardy if the bell rang, and two others strolled in downright tardy, so I told them that I was tired of being their doormat, and from now on a tardy is a tardy, because of too many people taking advantage and partying in the boys' bathroom and then disrupting class upon entering. In the middle of that lecture, the office called to ask where the assignments were for an absent child, and I told them that had been next on my list all day, and that it was on my desk and I would be sending it right up. To which the office worker had to add, "Well, her dad is right here." Of course. The ONE time a parent actually comes to get all that work we send up, and mine is 50 feet from the office. I gathered it up and gave it to the CandleMoneyStealer, but she noticed that today's work was not attached, and wouldn't you know it, we had just used the last one, so CMS offered up her as yet unused worksheet for copying, and for once the copy gods smiled upon me and we made one copy with no jamming. Back in the classroom, my unattended adolescents snapped right into shape, and because they annoyed me less than any other class today, I collected all assignments at the end of the hour, with amnesty for those who were not finished.

Then I promptly forgot to do my afternoon parking lot duty when the bell rang.

After school, I quizzed the #1 son on his sweaty armpits and too-small shirt, to which he responded that he has been out of antiperspirant for a week, and has been using mere deodorant, which is just not acceptable, and that he wore the only clean shirt he had, which is a downright lie, which he justified that the other shirts were the five he wore last week, neglecting to admit that there was a long-sleeve shirt and three polo shirts and two collared button-front shirts that he could not be caught wearing to school, but only to church.

After getting rid of #1 and sitting down to finish grading papers, in came Charger to strongarm me for a quarter. I told him he was nickel-and-diming me to death, to which he cleverly replied, "Uh uh." Then Professional Victim from last year's class came in and interrogated me on the whereabouts of Custodian, though he had looked everywhere I suggested. After fielding a call from Chez Mama concerning the oral emissions of The Pony, I finished up my work with only a couple of "Bye"s shouted over my shoulder to those students who could not resist hollering, "Bye, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom!" on their way past my door. Oh, and one unpleasant young man who snuck in from the cafeteria snack line from the afterschool program just to push my buttons had to be told to "Go away." That's what happens when you're a butt on the last day of school the previous year. Elephantine Mrs. Hillbilly Mom does not forget that you came in THREE times to throw soda cans in her trash, after being told not to do so, and even though there are big trash cans in the cafeteria not 15 feet from Mrs. HM's door.

Then it was time for my afternoon walk, which was bespoiled by a bevy of FCCLA contestants who had taken over the classrooms at my end of the hall. Thank the Gummi Mary I refused to avail my classroom to ParkingSpaceStealer, because this would have been a most unpleasant day to be without my classroom from 3:00 to 5:00 while awaiting the end of #1's basketball practice.

Please don't offer me a sandwich. I'm full.