Come the 7th

On February 7th, 1951, my father was born.  He graduated high school 18 years later and was married in 1972.  In 1974, I was born.  In 1979, my sister was born.  I gotta say, good job Dad!

Of course, the 7th isn't until this weekend.  In the meantime I will have to toil in the schools, bringing innocent children an education.  I'd like to give you a vision of what my day was like yesterday.

Middle school.  I was giving a test.  At one point a boy issued a threat along the lines of, "I'll kill you."  I rolled my eyes and told him he didn't mean that.  I explained we need to be careful about the language we use.  He reiterated that that was indeed the word he wanted to use.  I then explained to him why he was heading off to the office to talk to the Vice Principal.

Another boy, out of nowhere decided that throwing an eraser across the room was a good idea.  He hit another boy in the ear with it and his classmates gave him away.  I sent him to the office, I assume to discuss ballistics.

A girl came up and needed to go print something in the library.  I had no problem with that.  I said, "I'll write you a note."  I started to write on a post it, "So-and-so needs to print out a-"  and she sighed and said, "Jeez, do you really need to write so much?"  I looked up into her beady little preteen eyes and said, "No," ripped up the note, and told her to go back to her desk.

Obviously, I did not have the best students.  In fact, there were times I was a little surprised that these kids had worked their way up to sixth grade.

Today, I get to teach English at a High School. I suspect it will be better.