Kid (super excited): “My friend and I wrote a whole thesis about why and how human blood can be used to power cars. Because blood has iron. We have a diagram and everything, and explain all the science behind it. We’ve been working on it for months. It’s like 20 pages long. Do you want to read it?”
Me: “DO I?!?”
No. I do not.
I’d actually rather you stab me repeatedly and use my blood to power said car.
If that’s an option.
Kid: “My mom is definitely going to vote for Hillary Clinton. And my Dad said that you are definitely going to vote for her too.”
Me: “Why– because I’m a woman?”
Kid: “No. Because you’re poor.”
Kid (in complete unamused deadpan): “Happy first day of state testing.” (Looks at floor, puts head in hands)
Ah, young squire. I’ve taught you well.
Soon you’ll be saying such things over a plate of nachos salted with your own tears.
Me (to male student): “Wow, look at you! You look older!”
Kid: <blank stare, blatant discomfort>
Oh. Right. You’re pre-pubescent. This conversation is your worst nightmare.
This is what I (and all teachers) must sound like when we complain about going back to work after a vacation:
Kid: “Do you tutor me over vacation because you’re poor?”
Me: “What?! No!”
Yes.
— kid, age 9, who I was relieved to discover was referring to a lollipop.
Well, sort of relieved.
Kid was REALLY into it.
“Hi! I’d like one of everything you sell. And also a straw.” — me, right now, at the wine store.
Kid: “When my mom comes for her parent/teacher conference tonight, just remind her who is Miss Emily and who is [my co-teacher], because she doesn’t know.”
Me: “But I’ve been your teacher for 3 years.”
Kid: (Stares blankly. Shrugs shoulders. Wipes runny nose with back of palm.)
(Continuation of Ebola Mom Part 18, and part of the Ebola Mom series)
Three things, Nanc:
1. I’m going to go ahead and NOT accept your apology.
2. Why would you admit that? WHY?! There is no logical reason to admit that. Would you like ME to admit that I think you’re an assclown? No. That benefits no one. So I’ll keep that information between me and the Internet, where it belongs.
3. Your nanny has been framing me since day one.
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