All You’re Ever Gonna Be Is Mean

, , , , , | Learning | February 20, 2019

I work with kindergarten students who have special needs. I have a handful of them that I instruct daily. One little boy, [Student #1], is very self-sufficient — or tries very hard to be, anyway — but still requires my help with schoolwork. He likes to call me “mean” whenever he doesn’t get his way. I take it in stride and tell him that those are not nice words. One day, I end up busy with one of my less-independent students, [Student #2], who needs my attention all day due to a meltdown.

Due to this, [Student #1] has a different helper for a few hours who is “nice” and lets him get away with bad behavior to some extent.

At the end of the day when [Student #2] is picked up by their parents, I am talking to the helper, getting caught up on [Student #1].

[Student #1] looks over at me, smiles his very sweet smile, and says to me, “Can you please go away now?”

I laugh so hard I snort and the helper just stares at him like, “Did he really just say that?” while [Student #1] is just smiling away.

Rocky Mountain Oysters Do NOT Come From The Ocean

, , , , , | Friendly | February 15, 2019

(I am a fourth-grade teacher.)

Student: “Mr. [My Name], do you like oysters?”

Me: “Yes.”

Student: “Great! I’ll bring you some.”

Me: *wondering how he intends to do that, since we live in Missouri* “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

Student: “It’s no problem. I’ll bring ’em as soon as my dad’s done castrating the bulls.”

Me: “You really don’t have to do that.”

Dead Presidents

, , , , | Learning | February 10, 2019

(When I am teaching fourth grade, my students do a project where they make little cutouts of various US presidents. The next day, one of my students comes to me in tears, saying that on the bus home, an older kid grabbed her president and tore it up. I confront the kid the next day.)

Me: “Did you tear up my student’s president?”

Kid: “No! Someone else did!”

Me: “She says it was you.”

Kid: “No! All I did was tear off the head and legs!”

(I gave the girl the sample president as a replacement. Poor kid traded James Madison for Jimmy Carter.)

Sent A Stinging Note

, , , , , , , | Healthy | February 6, 2019

My grandmother was a teacher at one of the nearby elementary schools, and at the time she was teaching in this old, wooden building which was located where the playground is now. One day, as she was teaching, a wasp flew in. My grandmother was deathly allergic to wasp stings, so she freaked out, screaming and diving under her desk to avoid it. She ended up writing a note and sent it with a student to the janitor.

The note read, “There’s a wasp in here, and I’m allergic. Come get it!”

The student came back with a reply on the other side of the paper that read, “I know how you feel.”

One of her students killed the wasp for her.

A Different Grade Of Thief

, , , , , , | Learning | February 1, 2019

When I was younger, I always loved reading. I still do, even though I don’t have as much time as I used to. In my school, we were allowed to quietly read after we finished our work, something I took full advantage of… at least until my grades started drastically dropping in one class.

I always did my work before I pulled out a book, so I was confused. A parent-teacher meeting was called, and my teacher told my parents that she hadn’t been receiving any papers for me. The decision was made to ban me from reading at all in her class.

I still did my work, and my grade in that class didn’t get much better, but since the apparent “reason” had been taken care of, nothing more was done until one day, when we had a new kind of assignment.

This new one was a magazine for kids with short informational stories. We then had to fill out a little quiz on the back of it. I turned mine in, went back to my seat, and waited.

Towards the end of class, the teacher read out the names of everyone who had turned them in… and mine wasn’t there. I knew I had turned it in, so I asked her if I could look through them, which she allowed. And about midway through the pile, I found it: my work, with my name erased and another name written over it. How did I know?

Well, once you wrote on those magazines, the indent would still be there, even if it was erased. I showed it to my teacher, pointed out the indents, and the person who stole that paper — and several before that — got in a lot of trouble. I had more problems with her, but this was the biggest stunt she pulled by far.

Page 1/1612345...Last