Tag Archives: kids

Complaints That Are Unjustified

Kids/Teaching, Random Thoughts/Happenings, , , ,

Look, I’m all about complaining, especially when it comes to travel. I’ve had my fair share of annoying experiences, ranging from pilots having caffeine withdrawal to kids constantly asking if they can have one of whatever candy I’m eating (the answer, for the record, is always no, unless you’ll be satisfied with the yellow flavor, which you NEVER. ARE.)

But I’m sitting here on this flight, taking off on time, plenty of overhead space and legroom. Despite the fact that I am heading back to the frozen tundra death trap of despair and crushed dreams, things are good. There are plenty of kids on the flight, but so far everyone is lovey and well-behaved.

Enter dramatic, exasperated, head-to-toe-in-Vinyard-Vines passenger. This guy is actually wearing full blown foundation and what I’m fairly certain is mascara. He sits down in the row across from me, takes one look at the row behind him, and, in the rudest, most unnecessarily put-upon fashion, sighs and exclaims, “EVERY time I fly, there are children on the plane. EVERY TIME! Just my luck!”

Ok, man. Relax. You’re not allowed to be annoyed by the sheer fact that children exist on this plane. Children make up a fairly large part of the population, and if you think you’re going to get on a 200-person plane and not encounter any, you’re about as delusional as I was this morning when I considered faking Ebola symptoms in order to not have to fly back to NY. This is a plane, not a cocktail bar on a Saturday night. Children (even babies!) are allowed to be here. Furthermore, you’re on a 12:05pm Delta flight from West Palm Beach during a school vacation, not a chopper stealthily escaping war-torn Afghanistan in the middle of the night. That is pretty much the only flight situation I can think of that might have a chance of not involving children.

So relax, man. These kids are being lovely.

In the meantime, keep eating your heavily spiced Mexican food in this cramped, confined spice before they’ve turned on the AC. Because that’s FAR less offensive and avoidable than the existence of kids.

P.S. When these kids start pissing me off, I’m totally on your side.

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I Will NOT Be Your Guest, Kid

Kids/Teaching, Random Thoughts/Happenings, ,

I made the mistake of letting the chatty lady next to me on this 5-hour bus ride, sitting with her son (who was sleeping at the time), know that I’m a teacher. Since then, her son has woken up and proved himself to be the WORST. He seems to have mistaken this charter bus for a Broadway stage, and himself for Nathan Lane in The Birdcage. But louder and more dramatic.

The mom, inexplicably, is amused by this, despite the fact that everyone else on the bus is undoubtedly plotting the child’s murder. Or her murder. Or mass murder. The guy across from me has turned up the volume on his iPod full blast. The woman next to him appears to be praying to Allah. The man in front of me seems to have just given up on enjoying this ride, and possibly on life entirely.

The mom smiles at me. “You’re a teacher. You must love kids.”
Me: “Sure do.”

From 8-3pm. On a work day. When they are under MY control.

Your song-screaming child, in this moment, is, make no mistake, my worst nightmare. Never again will I be able to enjoy Beauty and the Beast. Or music in general. All sounds, really.

So, no, kid. I will NOT be your guest. Do you hear me? Neither will that guy, or that lady, or that old man. NO ONE HERE WANTS TO BE YOUR GUEST.

You may also NOT have one of my skittles. So don’t ask again.

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The Root Of The Problem

Dating/Single Life, Kids/Teaching, , , , , ,

We had students choose someone special and write that person a love cinquain poem. Two boys got right down to work….

Kid 1: “So who are you writing your valentine poem for?”
Kid 2: “Sarah.”
Kid 1: “Who’s Sarah?”
Kid 2: “Well, there are actually two Sarahs. One is my cousin, another is this girl I know from camp. Not sure yet which one I’m giving it to.”
Kid 1 (gravely serious): “Dude– you should definitely give it to your cousin. Giving a love poem to someone who’s not in your family would be REALLY weird.”

And so it begins. Two young boys who understand nothing about love, soon to be grown men who understand nothing about love.

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The Truth Comes Out

Kids/Teaching, , ,

Guys, this is super awkward. How do I tell my co-teacher that this kid thinks I’m #1?

Maybe I just won’t tell her, and let her continue to think that HER same exact gift from this kid is the one that’s genuine.

But we all know what’s happening here. Similar to when homeless men tell me I’m beautiful, then say it to the person right behind me. No one should feel left out. But we all know who they’re REALLY talking to….

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A Rolex I Can Afford

Kids/Teaching, ,

Kid: “My dad just had a birthday.”
Me: “Oh yeah? Did you get him a nice gift?”
Kid: “Sure did. A Rolex.”
Me: “Wow. That IS a nice gift. How were you able to afford a Rolex? Because I would LOVE to be able to afford a Rolex.”
Kid: “It didn’t cost a thing.”
Me: “I’m confused.”
Kid: “I drew an X on a baseball. Then I rolled it to him.”
Me: (head in hands)
Kid: “I can get you one too if you want.”
Me: “I do not want one.”
Kid: “But you said you wanted a Rolex!”
Me: “Kid, listen to me and listen well– I do NOT want a baseball with an X on it. Do you understand?”
Kid: “Got it.”
Me: “Great.”
Kid (to his friend, as I walk away): “I’m SO going to give her a tennis ball with an X on it.”

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Did I Ever Tell You You’re My Hero?

Kids/Teaching, , ,

For homework, we asked the kids to interpret the lyrics to “Wind Beneath My Wings.”

Kid 1 took it to a whole new level and decided to download and watch the movie “Beaches” in order to get more context. He then explained the lyrics of the song in terms of “Whitney and Bette’s friendship,” hypothesizing that “Whitney didn’t care to be famous, she just wanted to help Bette be a star and be there for her as a friend– in other words, be her strength, like the song says.” Naturally, I got teary-eyed reading this essay because seriously what IS it about that movie?! (Side note: sorry to that kid’s parents for introducing him to a movie with themes of early death and infidelity. I hope he’s not as scarred as I was when my parents took me to see Pretty Woman in theaters when I was 8, presumably because they couldn’t find a babysitter).

And then, Kid 2:

“It’s about a bird. With wings.”

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This Kid Should Read My Blog

Kids/Teaching,

Me: “Oh, you’re learning to play the flute? I used to play the flute in elementary school.”
Student: “Yeah. I’m not that good at it, though.”
Me: “You’ll get better. It takes practice. And if it makes you feel better, I wasn’t so great at it either.”
Student (genuine surprise): “YOU weren’t good at something?”

Oh, kid. You don’t know me at all.

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I Totally Get It, Brian Williams

Kids/Teaching, , , ,

Everyone needs to lay off Brian Williams. Who DOESN’T lie at work?!

  • “This is the most interesting Colonial America expository I’ve ever read!” (not possible)
  • “I don’t understand why you think it’s so funny when I read the words ‘Moby Dick.'” (I do. I get it. You’re 9.)
  • “I’m not upset that you’re sick, I’m upset that you’re not covering your mouth when you cough.” (I’m VERY upset that you’re sick– GO HOME!)
  • “The Handwriting-Detective app on my iPhone will help me figure out who wrote ‘sex’ on this post it note, so I suggest you just confess.” (Handwriting app doesn’t exist, but I already know the culprit, as only one of you knows what sex is.)
  • “I respect your parents’ decision not to let you wear deodorant, and I don’t at all wish I could handcuff them to a table in this classroom on days we have gym first period.” (I make this plea to god every Thursday)
  • “This math lesson is going to be interesting AND fun!” (a quick two-lies-in-one)
  • “I missed you over the summer!” (I feel like you’re not even buying this one, so I’m not sure why I keep saying it)
  • “Everything we do in this classroom is important!” (It’s not. It’s just not. Composite vs. prime numbers? No. Who cares. You’re fine.)

Although I suppose one could argue that I, too, should be fired…

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