I had many kids over the years slip things to me: "Ms. G, I forgot I brought a pocketknife/prescription drugs/my cell phone/a firecracker(BWAHUH?)/Xacto for my litho project to school!"
The pocketknife? "A parent needs to pick it up, so YOU won't get in trouble." The script I would walk up with them to the office and we'd lock up after looking at the bottle label. The other stuff? I would thank the student for giving it to me and tell them they could have it back at the end of the day.
The firecracker, I flushed down the toilet. Unlit.
Why punish a kid who's trying to be good?
We did expell the girl who reached into her pocket to pull out a pencil and a 1/2 oz. of weed fell out. The other English just looked at her and was all "Why the HELL did you have that in your fricking POCKET? Why didn't you hide it in your bra, like normal people? Now we have to expell you!"
The kid was all "D'oh!"
And I pulled many a new kid up close to me, sniffed them loudly and publicly and announce "Don't. Hotbox. In. A. Car. Before. School. Again." A couple tried to brazen it out, only to have the toughest kids in school shake their heads mournfully at them and pull them aside later: "Dude, she'll bust you. SHE KNOWS!!!!"
I get that a lot. Only from teenagers!
I wouldn't have survived high school without advil in my purse, and at least one of my teachers who also got headaches a lot knew who also had headache meds if she was out of them. Freshman year a couple of idiot alumi decided to burn down our school we lost one building and the chem lab had some chemicals burn. Even after a thorough clean up, many of us got headaches all the time until graduation.
Having a rescue inhaler not on your person makes no sense to me .
Edited to make my words make more sense.
The idea of a kid having to get the teacher's attention, the teacher has to write a note, then the kid has to go to the nurse in order to use an inhaler is patently ridiculous!
Bug-free~ma, Erin! Lice were one of the biggest problems they had when I was in boot camp. It seemed like every couple weeks 3 or 4 girls would get them. It was a nasty cycle, 80 girls to a unit, so it didn't take much to get rid of them and get them right back. Fortunately, I was never so afflicted.
I am so happy I graduated in '75. There were practically no rules, we had an open campus policy, and the drinking age was 18. It was the best of times.
I need to flail a little. I joined match.com a week ago. I e-mailed somebody. He replied! He's articulate, literate, and got my Doctor Who reference in the last line of my profile. Eep! Now I'm all nervous about keeping the ball going! ::flail::
I need to flail a little. I joined match.com a week ago. I e-mailed somebody. He replied! He's articulate, literate, and got my Doctor Who reference in the last line of my profile. Eep! Now I'm all nervous about keeping the ball going! ::flail::
Sail is made of WIN and Mr. Man realized it! A gentleman of good and discerning taste, says I.
Yay, Sail!! Roll that ball back!
Roll that ball back!
I hope this is a metaphor.
(I'm editing an article right now -- with COLOR PICTURES -- that is titled "Cocaine-Related Vasculitis Causing SCROTUM GANGRENE." [The capital letters are mine.] Dude, forget the whole "This is your brain; this is your brain on drugs," crack the egg PSA. I tell you what, I think saying, "Guys: do you like your balls? Do you want them to ROT AND FALL OFF? Then don't smoke crack!!!" is a way way WAY more effective PSA.)
(I am SO not kidding. The pictures -- did I mention, COLOR??? -- are nasty.)
Crack is wack, kiddies.
