. Regurgitated Alpha Bits: Hang a Left at Treachery

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Hang a Left at Treachery

Forget what Dante said. There is actually a tenth circle in Hell, and I visited it yesterday.

Nestled right after The Violent and Fraud, but just before Treachery, Lucifer's hometown, lies the often overlooked additional circle of Hell: Projectile Snot Blowing.

I can hear your collective groans from here. "Move on already, Edna. We get it. Mucas=Gross. Blah blah blah..."

No, I am afraid you do not get it. Evidently, I have not made myself clear to anyone, including my students. As evidence:

Yesterday, I was instructing a small group of students at the front of my room. As usual, Alex chose the spot right at my feet. If he were one of the seven dwarves, he'd be named Snorty due to his loud, um...I suppose I could call them sniffles but that lacks the correct flavor. It really is a constant snorting, like a dog does when he pulls too hard on his leash, and that is followed by an audible swallowing sound.

Things were going great. The kids were all focused on the task at hand. Alex Snorty-Snortenheimer is simultaneously hawking back snot balls and struggling through geometry problems, and then...

Without warning, Alex sneezes and blows a giant, silver-dollar sized blob of snot on my foot. It was thick, greenish brown, and smeared like mucas frosting on top of my vanilla foot. It dangled from the cuff of my pant leg, across the top of my bare skin, and onto my shoe.

Did you get the part where I said it was ON MY SKIN?!?!?!

Now, I pride myself on being an even-tempered person, especially in the classroom. I like to keep an even-keel, no matter what the situation.

Evidently, snot is the exception to that rule. I think I shrieked something like, "What! Are you kidding me!?!?!" and then steamrolled over my poor little kids to the back of the room and thrust my foot, shoe and all, under the sink.

It's all a bit of a blur, but I think I also called for a student to boil some water and sent another for the janitor's high pressure hose. One student suggested I just put a little cold water on it, but the look I shot her silenced any and all further suggestions from the peanut gallery.

After scrubbing my foot until nothing but bone was left, I returned to my duties as a teacher and finished the day...

almost without incident.

On the way out to dismissal, my student Peter was walking next to me. A gentle breeze was blowing.

Without warning, "AAAcchoooo!"

That oh so gentle breeze carried the remnants of Peter's unexpectedly wet sneeze across the sky and smattered it across my face.

1 comment:

Wamblings said...

hahaha, my two and three year olds wiping their noses with my rhythm instruments are starting to not look so bad to me after all. At least it isn't great gobs on my skin. *gives you a bottle of antibacterial rub*