Learn Me Gooder

Thanks for taking it upon yourself to perform Eddie’s “Game or cake?” experiment. Your results sound a bit inconclusive, though. You finished a game of solitaire before finishing a small carrot cake, but you polished off a whole bundt cake before your World of Warcraft session was over. I’m going to need to see a full write-up before I can share this with my class.

I love that you’re calling it “Eat some of this!”

Today we finally got to do the thing that you guys assume we do twice a week. We went on our field trip! Four months ago, I never thought this day would get here, but we finally got to leave the school and travel. Our destination was The Science Place, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. It’s a really cool center with lots of hands-on activities, visual aids, and graphic displays. Everyone there seems to have forgotten (or at least forgiven) the whole “Mayonnaise Incident of ‘05,” so there was no problem buying tickets for our large group.

After the bell rang this morning, we didn’t stay long at the school. Mrs. Bird and I took the attendance, collected homework from last night, took care of the kids’ water imbalances (moved some out, moved some in), and sent the students who were staying behind to various classrooms around the school. Lex, Joaqim, Marcus, and Priya all lost out on their chance to go with us. Let it be known that No Child Left Behind does NOT apply to field trips.

We filled up three school buses for the journey to The Science Place. Actually, the REST of the third grade packed into the first two buses, while Mrs. Bird and I rode in comfort and luxury with our classes in the third bus. Or as close as one can possibly get to comfort and luxury inside a loud, stinky, graffitied school vehicle.

The Science Place is in Fair Park, right next door to where the Texas State Fair is held every year. When the enormous Ferris wheel came into sight, I heard several kids gasp, “Oooh!! Six Flags!!”

These are no doubt the same kids who shout, “Oooh!! Disney World!!” every time they see a duck.

During the twenty minute ride, I learned that Jessie is a very intense joke teller. He’s going to tell you a joke, and you’re going to laugh!

His first joke was, “What did the carpet say to the floor?”

I said I didn’t know (a lie, by the way), and he finished, “I’ve got you covered!”

I had barely started to smile when Jessie asked, “Did you get it? Did you get it?”

Far too many jokes followed in this same pattern. In Jessie’s mind, if someone doesn’t immediately chortle, they must not understand the joke.

In the seat behind Jessie, Felipe was making up his own jokes. “What did one dinosaur say to the other dinosaur? I am bigger than you! Said the bigger dinosaur.”

He didn’t seem too concerned about whether his seat buddy got the humor or not.

Once we got there, everyone really enjoyed themselves. There were simple machines to try out, sound and light experiments to play with, restrooms to use – it was like Christmas in May.

Over in the “Health and the Human Body” area, there was a full-sized ambulance, with a “trauma patient” in the back. By the time I wandered over to that area, there were about ten kids in the ambulance, packed into every available space around the gurney, and they were all trying to get their hands on the fake heart stimulator paddles. Clearly, some of these kids have been watching old episodes of ER, because they understand that before you can use these paddles, you have to yell, “CLEAR!” at the top of your lungs. What they DON’T seem to comprehend is the true function of those paddles. In their minds, the object is to strike the patient’s chest as violently as possible with the paddles. How this could possibly aid the recovery of a human being, I don’t understand. But then, I’ve never really understood the mass appeal of Justin Bieber, either.

Lunch was nice and serene, out on the side lawn. After everyone had eaten, though, we found that we had a problem. When we picked up our lunches from the cafeteria in the morning, we also took three coolers full of milk and juice cartons (no stinky strawberry milk). The cafeteria ladies told us not to bring back any of the milk or juice. When lunch was over, one cooler was still filled to the brim, and the other two were more than half full.

A-ha, I thought to myself. I have a mission.

When I asked the kids who wanted another milk or juice, I only got about eight takers. That wasn’t enough to even put a dent in the amount of liquid we had left over. Next, I told the kids that they would really be helping me out, doing me a personal favor, by drinking another milk or juice. To my great surprise, this actually got a lot of response. Pretty soon, the juice was gone and we were down to one cooler, but it was still nearly full, and the kids seemed to be getting lactose intolerant. When I made the discovery that there was a lot more CHOCOLATE milk hidden under a couple of layers of white milk, the kids got motivated again. I can’t believe there are so many milksists at my school!

Nevertheless, I was soon standing over a cooler with about ten cartons of regular white milk in it. Big Jack and Fo’lina had each consumed at least four cartons and were swaying on their feet like punch drunk prizefighters. Nobody else was stepping up to finish the job.

Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. A super-fantastic, genius idea. I reached down into the cooler and pulled out the object I had spied. I held it up over my head and shouted, “Whoever drinks a carton of milk gets a free ice cube!”

The kids closest to the cooler almost got trampled.

All this time, all I needed to do was offer free ice cubes, and my kids would have bent over backwards to learn their lessons? I’ll have to remember that for next year.

Talk to you later,



Ben Afflactose



Date: Tuesday, May 18, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Don’t cross the streams





Hey bud,



“Ice cubes are the new Jolly Ranchers”



I like that line. That would look great on a T-shirt.

I’d say Latya tells slightly higher caliber jokes than Jessie (certainly dirtier jokes), but yeah, he does get a little put out if you don’t laugh right away. At least Jessie doesn’t trail off into a mumble at the end of every punch line.

I was talking to Jill on the phone last night, and she told me that her school had a “Dress as Your Favorite Character from a Book” Day. She went to class yesterday dressed as Alice in Wonderland, and she had students dressed as Harry Potter, Marvin Redpost, and Nancy Drew. I think that Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum were implied.

I told her I would have gone as a Stephen King character – teacher Johnny Smith from The Dead Zone. I wouldn’t be readily identifiable from my clothing, but I could have fun going around shaking kids’ hands and making creepy and eerily accurate prophecies.

“You are going to have a bland hamburger for lunch. You’re going to get put in time out at 2:14. You’re going to fidget.”

I don’t think even Johnny Smith would have been able to foresee the events of today, though. Events involving kids who are mere weeks away from being fourth graders yet who insist on acting like kindergarteners.

Today’s malfeasance occurred in the boys’ bathroom, a well-documented hotspot of foolishness and bad choices. I was standing near the doorways monitoring the kids in the hall, so I did not see what actually happened. I had to go by witness testimony. And never were there three more unreliable witnesses.

Tyler, Eddie, and Amir were the only boys in the bathroom at the time. Tyler and Eddie were the two actually involved in the incident, so they were not inclined to tell the whole truth, and Amir (doesn’t like the feel of paper, keeps a wet stick in his backpack) is just so loopy, I never know if I can take him at his word.

Tyler came running out of the restroom to tell me that Eddie had peed on his shoe. Eddie was right behind him, and HE insisted that Tyler had poured some water on his own shoe.

Tyler’s shoe was definitely wet, but I wasn’t about to get down on all fours and do a taste and smell analysis. Instead, I asked Amir what had happened. According to Amir, here’s what really occurred:

Amir and Tyler were standing at the side-by-side urinals when Eddie came in behind them. Rather than do the logical thing and use one of the four empty stalls, Eddie decided to do the next best thing. Move up uncomfortably close to the two boys and threaten to pee on them if they didn’t move quickly.

Amir took the threat to heart and vacated his spot, while Tyler chose instead to DARE Eddie to go ahead and pee on him.

Unfortunately, Amir did not actually see whether Eddie took the dare, so I had to ponder the available evidence. On the one hand, Eddie had just threatened to urinate on a fellow student, and I’m fairly confident that he lacks the maturity to turn down a dare. On the other hand, Tyler never said, “Simon says, pee on my foot.”

In the end, I found both parties at fault, and “Rover” and “Hydrant” will be spending the next couple of days at their respective homes. Hopefully, with newspaper laid down on the floor.

All in all, we learned two major life lessons today. Lesson #1 – If you do not want someone to pee on your foot, do not DARE them to pee on your foot.

Lesson #2 – One really should not giggle when a student with a heavy Hispanic accent (like Mia) continuously pronounces the word “journal” as “urinal.” The first time she said, “I put my urinal in my desk?” I was a little scared, but now I just have to bite my tongue.

It’s probably a good thing we didn’t do Character Day at my school. Dick and Jane would be fine, but there would have been far too many Spots.

Later,



I. P. Freely



Date: Thursday, May 20, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: Who was that masked midget?



Hey man,



I knew you were going to mention that time Larry threatened to pee on your foot. Or those times, I should say. None of them involving a jellyfish sting.

If we did have a Character Day at my school, I would have to think of something a lot more obvious and youth-oriented than what you suggested. I realize that Atlas Shrugged is your favorite book, but if I wore a T-shirt that said, “I am John Galt,” NO ONE would get that, including most of the other teachers!

Horrible idea! Just terrible! I don’t know why I ever listen to any of your suggestions!

Although your suggestion to get burritos from Freebirds over the weekend was a great one, so forget what I just said.

This morning, Mrs. Fitzgerald called me to say she was running late and to ask if I would get her class started. I quickly got all of my kids into my room, put up a logic puzzle – which they’ve really taken to, by the way – and then picked up Mrs. Fitzgerald’s class. I was down in her room with them for about five minutes until a teacher’s assistant came, then I went back to my own classroom.

When I entered my room, the first thing I noticed was that Charles, who had come in late, looked like he had been in a bar fight. He had a black eye and several bruises on his face. Charles is not the brawling type at all, so I was shocked at his appearance. I asked him, “What happened to you??!?” and he replied, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “Oh, I got my butt kicked by a midget.”

Now THAT’S something you don’t hear every day, Chauncey!

I wasn’t going to be fazed, though. He said it so nonchalantly that I figured I should respond in kind. I just said, “Oh, that’s cool,” as if that was the most commonplace response in the world, then I turned to talk to one of the other children. The whole exchange had taken about four seconds, and in my mind I was wondering, “What. The. Hell????”

I waited until recess to follow up. When I asked him again what had happened, he told me the complete story. Yesterday, he had been at the pool at his apartment, and he had just gotten out and was drying himself off. Some kid, much smaller than him, had come up and said, “You wanna fight?” Charles had shrugged and said, “OK, why not?” Based on his appearance, he had then let the little kid use his face as a punching bag.

I suggested that the next time someone propositioned him with the question, “You wanna fight?” that his answer should be, “No, thank you, I would very much prefer to do something else.”

Something even more surreal (surrealer?) happened after recess, when the class was lined up to take their restroom break. As usual, the boys were as close to resembling an orderly line as Ron Philby is to resembling Kareem Abdul Jabbar. Suddenly, I heard Charles say, “Hey, you know those Subway commercials?”

He then started singing the jingle that goes with those Subway commercials.

“Five... Five Dollar... Five Dollar Foot Looooong...”

Then the surrealest moment of all came – all of the other boys in line started singing the jingle along with him! Suddenly I’ve got this line of ten boys all singing about five dollar foot longs and doing the accompanying hand motions.

I figured that midget must have given Charles a concussion, but did the midget get to ALL the boys in my class?

Moving from surreal to bittersweet, towards the end of the day, we received the results of the TAKS test, and they were pretty much exactly what I had been expecting. I had eight kids that didn’t pass the math test. They weren’t exactly the eight kids that I had expected, though. Two kids that I didn’t think would pass did (nice surprise), and two kids that I thought WOULD pass, did not (not so nice surprise).

Ta’varon missed the passing mark by one question, and Felipe only missed by two. Marcus’s score was in the teens – no surprise there.

On the opposite end, Tomas, Betsy, and Thilleenica each achieved a perfect score.

I took a bit of time and called each student individually up to my desk to share with them how they had done. I gave Antonio an entire stack of food coupons. I told Big Jack repeatedly that he had, in fact, done good. I let Chassany stare unabashedly at my hair while I told her she had passed.

When I was done speaking with all of them, Temperance raised her hand and asked, “When we come to school tomorrow, will we be in fourth grade?”

I replied, “Sure, and I will have ascended to Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

I didn’t really say that, but I did gently let Temperance and the class know that they still had to finish the rest of the third grade year. I didn’t mention that Mrs. Bird and I HAD joked earlier in the week about printing up fliers that said, “Last day of school – May 21st.”

With only nine days of school left, I have a feeling time will pass pretty quickly. This will definitely be the case if I can find that midget and convince him to beat up the rest of my class!

Talk to you later,



Khan Kust



Date: Tuesday, May 25, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: You want fries with that?



Hey bud,



Charles kept referring to a midget, but it was really a little kid. So it wouldn’t be fair to send Philby out to strike terror into the hearts of my students.

Besides, some of them could probably beat Philby up.

Today we had Career Day at the school. Career Day is held annually in the hopes that the kids will see some possibilities for what they can do with their lives. Several representatives of different occupations came to speak throughout the day.

The only mention of a career (other than teaching) that I can remember from this year came last month on one of the TAKS days. I had been sitting by the door of my classroom after school when Ms. Harries, the TAG teacher, walked by with one of the 5th grade ne’er-do-wells. She was haranguing him about something, which came as no surprise to me at all, because when he was in my class two years ago, I was constantly on his case.

Ms. Harries stopped when she saw me and told me to ask this kid what time he had finished his TAKS test. I obliged and asked what time he had finished.

He sullenly replied, “Sometime between 11 and 1.”

I looked at him for a long second and then said, “Wow, Troy, you’re going to make a fantastic cable repairman someday!”

The presentations today were going on all over the school. Some guests came to specific classrooms, some spoke in the library, and some were outside.

We put both groups of children in Mrs. Bird’s room for the first guest, Nurse McCaffrey’s husband, who is a lawyer. He talked to the kids about what he does all day – court appearances, studying contracts, etc. The kids were pretty well behaved and asked questions like, “How long did you have to go to school?” “How much money do you make?” and, “Do you like your job?”

Thankfully, no one asked, “Do you like cheese?”

Later in the day, we went out to the street to see some firemen who had brought a ladder truck. The kids were not so attentive to the firemen. While the gentlemen were explaining the dials and gauges on the truck, Eddie suddenly yelled, “LOOK!!” and pointed at a hawk flying overhead.

I wanted to ask the firemen if they could demonstrate the full power of the fire hose by spraying Eddie down.

Mrs. O’Reilly’s daughter, Miley, spoke to the entire third grade in the auditorium. She doesn’t have a career yet, because she’s a college student, but she gave the kids a little taste of what higher education would be like. Every single third grader at my school is now fired up about going to college. Not because Miley told them that they would get to choose their own classes and define their own path. Not because Miley told them that they would be living on their own in a dorm or an apartment. No, what sent these kids into a frenzy was when Miley started talking about campus amenities.

When she said there was a McDonald’s on the campus, the kids started cheering wildly. When she mentioned a Pizza Hut that delivered, they went even crazier. The more restaurants she listed, the more insane the kids got. When she said her college had its own bowling alley, I think I saw a kid’s head explode.

At the end of the day, all of the third graders went to the library to listen to the manager of a nearby grocery store. He started by briefly explaining his duties, then he fielded questions from the kids. He should have only taken a few questions, because after about three or four, they started getting repetitive.



“Do you have hot dogs at your store?”

“Do you have tuna fish at your store?”

“Do you have lobsters at your store?”



Suzie then woke up from her deep slumber to ask the strangest question of the day. In her slow Southern drawl, making even the smallest words come out with two syllables, she queried, “Is cherries good for you?”

The grocer stared at her for a moment and then moved his gaze up to the ceiling. I think he was looking for hidden cameras to see if he was being Punk’d. Finally, he answered nervously, “Uh, I think all fruits could be said to be good for you.”

Suzie nodded happily and then went back to sleep.

When we got back to my classroom, I asked the kids what they wanted to be when they grew up. Several still insisted that they would be basketball players, including Big Jack and Charles, who have a combined vertical leap of a quarter inch.

Strangely enough, no student on Career Day has ever asked me about being a teacher. I would love to be able to tell them that it takes a compassionate heart, an infinite store of patience, and a good friend with whom to exchange sarcastic, ranting emails.

Plus, I live near a Pizza Hut that delivers.

Later,



Oddjob



Date: Thursday, May 27, 2010





To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: You are now free to move about the classroom





Hey Fred,



I’m up pretty late writing this, but tomorrow is Friday, and then we have a 3-day weekend, courtesy of Memorial Day!

Every year, you tell me that you would like to come talk to my kids about your job. And every year, I tell you that no one wants to hear about someone sending emails, drinking coffee, and sitting in meetings all day long.

I’m kidding with you. I’ve really been protecting you all along, keeping you away from side-tracking questions like, “When is your bedtime?” or, “Do you have your own bicycle?”

Next year, though, if you’re still interested, I’ll let you do it. Just don’t blame me if your hair falls out the next day.

This evening was my school’s annual International Festival. There are over 60 different countries represented by students and teachers at my school. It’s like the UN, except there is much less sharing of the crayons. Everyone went all out to dress festively, prepare native foods, and decorate the halls with the colors and information of many of these countries.

We’ve spent the entire week preparing and decorating for the festival. This year, the third grade chose China and Ireland as our designated nations. As a result, our hallway is now festooned with construction paper lanterns, pictures of dragons, a giant Blarney Stone sitting next to the Great Wall of China, and several very Asian-looking leprechauns.

Part of the festivities included a food sampling in the cafeteria. We had a limited budget, so we went with Lucky Charms and fortune cookies. They were a huge success.

Going with the fortune cookie motif, I decided to have the kids write some fortunes that we could put up in the hallway and near our table in the cafeteria. As you might expect, I got some interesting submissions.

Here are some of the kids’ “fortunes.”



“When you are happy your mom is happy.”

“One day you will get married and then have a divorce.”

“Everyone goes through a lot of phrases.”

“If you study and study you will become gooder in school.”

“A man with a house does not need another house to give to his children when they are eight years old.”

“They say emnesia isn’t a word, well here are your lucky numbers 4,8,12,9,6,2,1.”



Definitely some pearls of wisdom in there. As well as some opals of confusion, some emeralds of perplexity, and some amethysts of what the hell??

In addition to the hallway decorations and the food, there was a fashion show in the auditorium, with several students dressed in the traditional attire of the countries being represented.

I invited Jill to the festival, and she showed up right as the fashion show was starting. Afterwards, I showed off my classroom and my hallway, and we walked around the basketball court outside where all of the games were set up. The whole time, I could see a roving band of little girls, led by Katie and Ava, following us and giggling.

Then we got to the outrageous part of the evening. I spotted Temperance at a nearby game. She saw Jill and me, waved at us, and shouted, “Mr. Woodson! Is that your mother?”

I could feel my face turning bright red as I thought, “No, you little wing nut! Just like the 13-year-old that just walked by me is not my grandfather!”

I turned, extremely embarrassed, to apologize to Jill, but she was laughing. She saw my embarrassment, took my hand, and whispered in my ear, “It’s ok. MY kids probably would have asked if you were my pimp.”

Then she kissed me on the cheek, which brought gasps, shouts, and uncontrolled laughing from the group of girls following us.

Spirits buoyed by the warm kiss, I found it in my heart to forgive Temperance’s lapse in eyesight and/or good sense. After all, I suppose it’s not uncommon for the kids to have a narrow world-view of adults at the school and to see us all as one big family. It’s kind of sweet, even.

It’s certainly not uncommon, either. Last year, a former student saw me talking with Mr. Redd and asked if we were brothers. Two years ago, when Mrs. Fitzgerald’s pregnancy started showing, she told me several times that her kids kept asking her what WE were going to name OUR baby. Heck, Ava has been calling me “Daddy” all year long!

So I’ll give Temperance the benefit of the doubt. Just let this serve as a warning, though – stand next to me at your own peril. If my kids see us together, one of them might just think that you birthed me.

Good night,



Oedipus Tex



Date: Thursday, June 3, 2010



To: Fred Bommerson



From: Jack Woodson



Subject: You don’t have to go home, but you can’t learn here





Hey Fred,



Put it in the books, the school year is over! Please collect your money now from everyone who said I wouldn’t make it. It was a rough year to be sure, but I have no doubt that with a little relaxation, my grey hair, ulcers, stress rash, and night terrors will disappear in no time.

Thank you for your fortune cookie message, “After countless mistakes, you probably won’t screw it up this time with the person you’re dating.”

Jill is great, and she makes me very happy. I think if we’re still together at the end of the lengthy, work-free, wide-open summer break, then we’ll probably be in it for the long haul.

School is out, and today was a great close to an eventful year. For the past two days, I’ve been sending the kids home with over-loaded backpacks. They’ve taken their folders, their journals, their workbooks, their portfolios, and more. I got rid of all the extra homeworks and workbooks that were left over from throughout the year. Still, the kids were clamoring for more! Some of them just like the idea of getting free stuff, so they probably won’t do anything with it, but a lot of them told me they were definitely going to play school over the summer.

A few of them, like Hillary and Gloria, started asking for things that I had no intention of sending home.



“Can I have that overhead machine?”

“Can I have Bubba?”



These kids are little Larrys! I flashed back to the time when we were having lunch at a TGIFridays one day, when Larry said to the waiter, “I like your shirt! Can I have it?”

In addition to all of the extra paperwork, I also had a couple of science project boards that had not been claimed yet. The week prior, I had let the kids get together with their science project partners to decide amongst themselves who would take home the project boards. For the most part, the kids were able to come to amicable decisions, and one person from each group took their board home.

As of today, however, I still had two boards from my afternoon class where the group could not decide on who would get it. One group was Ella and Gwenn, and the other was Cerulean and Isabel.

I told these kids that if they couldn’t decide, I would cut the boards in half, and each of them would get half of the project. They didn’t seem too excited about that, but I told them it was going to be the only fair way to decide.

I pulled out the first board and put the open scissors on either side of the top, preparing to cut. I asked one last time, “Are you sure about this?”

Cerulean cried, “NO! I want to take it home!”

Naturally, Isabel responded, “No, I want it!”

So I started to cut right down the middle. Let me tell you, cutting a science board with a pair of third grade safety scissors is freaking hard!! I could hear a few gasps of horror as I cut. When I finally presented a half to each of the partners, they didn’t seem real pleased.

When I pulled out the other board, Ella immediately shrieked, “SHE CAN HAVE IT!!!!”

Ah yes, Old Testament practicality.

We had our end-of-year awards ceremony after lunch, and lots of parents and family came. It was held in the auditorium so the whole third grade could be there together. The teachers each went up to the stage and went through their class lists, announcing one or two awards for each student. Choosing the awards earlier this week presented a bit of a challenge. We were instructed to give every kid at least two awards. For some kids, this was easy. With kids like Tomas, Katie, and Clarisa, I actually had to draw the limit at five or six awards. With other kids, I had to be really creative with the “Teacher’s Choice” award. I gave one to Joaqim that read, “Most Consistent,” and one to Marcus that said, “Most mobile seating arrangement.”

When we got back to the classroom after the awards, I found a note from one of my students from last year. It was written on a salmon-colored piece of paper, folded in half, and it was left taped to my door.

It said, “Hi! Mister Woodson is me Diana. I was in your class in 3rd grade. Now I passed to fifth grade. I’m not going to be here next year I’m going to the new school. Today is my last day of school here. So I’m not to wave to you every time I see you! I’m going to miss you and the 4th grade teachers!”

Very sweet, isn’t it? The really funny thing is that her impression of me must have changed dramatically. Last year, on her first day in my class, we could hardly get her to enter the room. She was bawling on my doorstep as her mother and I tried to convince her to come in and sit down at a desk. It finally took Miss Rooker to come and talk her down, in Spanish, before she would even set foot in my room.

With a little time gone by, I guess I turned out to be not so bad after all.

Since we’ve gone to the dress code, we don’t do the end-of-year T-shirt signings anymore. Invariably, there will be a couple of kids walking around in a collared white shirt that has names all over it, but I can’t imagine that makes their parents too happy.

Instead, at the end of each class, I gave every kid a big piece of construction paper. I showed them how to fold it repeatedly and draw boxes, and we had an autograph party. The kids collected signatures and notes in the boxes on a medium suitable for framing.

I usually make my own autograph paper as well and get the kids to sign it for me, and it’s fun to see what they write. There are always plenty of “Best teacher ever” variations (ticher, techer, tetch), but this group provided a few memorable quotes.



DaQuayvius wrote, “Your best student,” which I thought was highly wishful thinking on his part.

Isabel wrote, “You’re the teacher I never had,” which I found a bit confusing.

Tyler wrote, “Thank you for showing me everything you know.” Nice sentiment, but I’m slightly offended he thinks my knowledge stops at a third grade level.



I signed most of the kids’ papers with some variation of “Have a great summer!” Not Lakeisha’s, though. Right before she asked me to sign hers, she told me that Lex had written something mean on Ava’s paper. So on Lakeisha’s paper, I wrote, “Try to work on less tattling over the summer!”

Before we knew it, it was 3:00 and the kids were out the door. Most of them rushed me and gave me a big hug – except Betsy, who shouted, “NO!!” and walked carefully around the group hug.

Once the last child was on a bus and the big yellow transports rolled away, we were left with nothing but the silence of our thoughts. That’s when the slow clap began. Started by me. Ignored by everyone else.

Another year has come and gone. My test scores certainly were not the best, but I know everybody got smarter. I got a girlfriend, so the rest is gravy.

Now begins almost three months of rest, relaxation, and recharging the batteries. I’ve had my eye on those second graders for a while, and something tells me I’m going to need this time off to get ready for them.

I’ll also need the time off to get Jill caught up on the entire Star Wars experience.

Over and out,

Brad U Ayshun