Too Cool For School

The warden gave us a reprieve. This morning after the first bell, the person left in charge today came by and liberated our thermostats. She said word came down from the absent principal to let us set them at 72. I was very glad to have that 75 unlocked. What I did not anticipate was a locking at 72. Because sometimes, that is just too cold. So I had to round up a faculty criminal to unlock it for me. He didn't mind. He was looking for someone to commiserate with, having scored a 58% on a technology-required training module. He said it was PowerPoint, in which he thought of himself as well-versed. That means I am going to score around 5%. He also said the darn thing loaded 22 lessons for him. Hmm...I think I am going to be spending a lot more than 4 hours on the 4 modules.

I came in from parking lot duty on Wednesday to find 3 kids poking a bug with the toes of their shoes. They were herding it out of the middle of the hall before the bell. Mind you, none of them cared enough about Buggy to pick him up and throw him outside.

Then I saw my cousin the English teacher walking along with a lime-green pouch clasped to her chest. She asked what strange new dance those Buggy kids were doing. Then she said, out of the blue, "I brought my sugar glider." Um...OK. I took the bait. "No you didn't." She insisted. "Yes, I did. I brought it to summer school, too." It makes no sense to me that somebody would want to bring a marsupial INTO the school. But the curiosity was getting to me. "Let me see."

Enga (because she's an English teacher, you know) turned the pouch around. I saw the bottom of the pouch move. Something wriggled in there. I put my hand on the bottom of the pouch. It felt like a little hamster. Through a 3 x 5 zippered mesh window area, I saw a dark creature twisting its head back and forth. And then it let out a demonic screech. I yanked my hand back. "It's going to rip my arm off! Where did you get that thing?" Enga spoke like a doting mother. "At Country Days. I've had her over a year now."

Enga turned the pouch around again, and clasped it to her chest. "Some people carry them in their pockets, or inside their shirts. I can't let her out. She's too aggressive." Hmpf! You ain't a-woofin'! Why you would want a critter like that around annoying 14-year-olds is beyond me. Enga went on down the ramp to her room. Then bell rang.

Later in the day, I asked the kids if they saw Mrs. Enga's sugar glider. Several gave me affirmation. "Yeah. It is too hyper. She put it in its cage, and it ran around and around on the sides of the cage, and peed all over. So she put it back in its pouch."

Heaven help us if that thing gets loose.