Start the Day with a Bang

Here's a non-school related story, but humiliating nonetheless.

So I'm walking my dog before work this morning. It's a pretty normal routine for us. My husky and I take a stroll around our condo complex every morning before I leave for work.

We wander around in the dark while she sniffs and pees, and I read the news on my iPhone.

Well, we were stopped at a bush so she could sniff out who had dared to pee on anything in her neighborhood (and I could read about Chloe and Lamar) when all of a sudden her ears perked up.

Still as a statue, her every muscle went tense.

Oh crap. What IS it?

She won't move. She's intently listening to something and won't budge.

Is it a coyote? A mountain lion?!?! Another neighbor recruiting for the condo board?!?!?!?!

Afraid to move because she won't move, I hold my breath and scan into the dark looking for any movement.

And then I hear something.

Faint at first, the sounds drifted to my ears through the darkness.

Yes, they were coming from a nearby open window.

Yes. YES! YEEEESSSSSS!! That oh, oH, OH, OOOOOOOHHHH - pen window!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOhh, YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!!

No sooner was I awash in shame for overhearing a couple, well, coupling, did my dog decide to join in.

AAAAAAWOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

I don't know if you've heard a husky howl before, but it's LOUD (and, evidently, encourages local coyotes to join in.)

And, at times, embarrassing...

Like when your sweaty-for-a-reason neighbors throw back their curtains to see you trying to drag your giant howling husky away from their open window like some sort of Peeping Tom and her canine sidekick.

On the up-side, I don't think they'll want pervs like me on the condo board.

I'm Tied Up Right Now

My student teacher has largely taken over teaching. I show up periodically to see if everyone is ok. Yesterday, I popped in just before recess. Marty was the last student to get up from his seat to go out.

He was in no hurry.

When I told him it was time to go have some much deserved fun, he slowly rose from his chair. His walk told me everything I needed to know about why he was still in the room.

(No, he didn't wet his pants.)

Nope, his walk suggested one of two things:

He was an escaped inmate still shackled at the ankles

or

He had tied his shoes together.

Head hanging low and with a voice filled with shame, he asked if I could help free him from his shoelace prison.

Me: Soooo, you tied your shoes together, huh? (My grasp of the obvious is incredible!)

Him: Yes, Ma'am. I thought I was tying the laces from the same shoe, but I wasn't.

Me: But they're tied at the very ends. Why would you tie your shoelaces at the very ends? Wouldn't your shoes be loose?

Him: Ok. I meant to do it.

Me: I see. May I ask why?

Him: I'm not really sure. Bored, I guess.

Me: Bored with being able to walk normally?

Him: heheehee

Me: When did you do this?

Him: While I was reading my library book and taking the quiz on the computer, BUT I still read and took the quiz.

Me: Really? How did you turn the pages? How did you type your answers? With your teeth? I mean, this knot is a doozy. No small effort was put into this.

Him: Ok. I didn't read. Or take the quiz.

Me: Instead, you invested a LOT of time doing this? (Pointed at the suuuuper tight knot in his laces)

Him: Well, I tied my shoes together, freaked out when I couldn't untie them and then pretended to read while I tried to figure out a way to break my laces.

Me: And?

Him: I couldn't.

Me: And?

Him: Now maybe you can untie them...

Me: And?

Him: I'll have to spend my recess reading my library book and taking the quiz?

Me: You got it! You see, Marty, despite what your laces are saying about you, you've proven you're a smart kid!

"G" means "Go"

Howdy! Sorry I haven't been blogging. I'm just not feelin' it lately at work.

I love my kids and I love my coworkers, but I'm just not loving "it" right now. (And I can't even put what "it" is into words.)

I'm not worried though. Soon enough I'll climb outta this dark closet I'm hiding in and love "it" (whatever that is) again.

Here's ELD testing in my world:

I have a cute little kiddo with a great big personality in my ELD class. He's got a great vocabulary and thinks BIG thoughts.

For some very good reasons, he doesn't handle change very well though.

So the kids were taking an ELD test. My student teacher had them start with Part G rather than Part A (for reasons I cannot explain), and my smart little fourth grader completely melted down.

At first, I left him to work through it as best he could, but it soon became apparent (pounding on his desk, throwing test on the floor) that he wasn't working through anything.

Him: I CAN'T DO THIS!!!!! (dramatically slams head down on his arms on his desk.)

Me: Sure you can.

Him: THIS IS CRAZY!!!! (Sounded like "mmmth isthh crathy" because his face was completely smothered by his arms.)

Me: No, it's a test. One that you're going to find very easy. Let's give it a try together.

Him: THIS IS SOOOOOOO IMPORTANT!!!!!!

Me: Yes, it is. (Thinking: No, not really.)

Him: WHAT ON EARTH ARE WE DOING HERE?!?!

Me: That's a pretty deep question. I don't think we have time to explore all the possible...

Him: WITH THE TEST!!! WHY ARE WE STARTING ON PART G? EVERYONE KNOWS YOU START ON PART A!!!!

(If everyone didn't know it before, they know it now. His voice was at DefCon 10.)

Me: OooooOOhh. (insert lie) It has to be that way because that is the order I have to enter the scores into the computer. The "G" stands for "Go!" Crazy, huh?

Him: Oh. Ok!

And off he went on his test, satisfied that there was a logical explanation for the chaos in his universe.

Ahhh, if only all our problems were so easily solved.