Clean-up on aisle 11

This morning the kids and I went to Wal-Mart while Rachel was working. We're having Rachel's birthday party with my side of the family tomorrow and needed to pick up some snacks. It was insanely busy throughout the store. I've seen July days at Walt Disney World with fewer people. Ella recently discovered the large, oversized carts that have actual seats attached to them. I strapped both of them in and made my way through the store. Immediately I discovered that it was going to be a work out because it kept veering to the left. I'd try to push it straight and it would invariably start careening into an old couple's cart. By the time I had gotten the first two things on my list I was sweating. I felt like I should have one of those signs attached like you see on the back of semis: Makes wide right turns. As we continued making our way through the food aisles I turned at one point and almost ran into yet another fellow shopper. I apologized and tried to move my hearse-sized cart out of the way. Well when I did, it once again got away from me and went crashing into a large display of Doritos. It was like when you get to the end of Jenga and with one idiotic move all of the pieces collapse. I swear that 53 bags of Fiery Habanero Doritos toppled onto the three of us. I paused there for a moment just in shock as I felt the embarrassment creep up into my face. Liam started laughing uncontrollably while Ella was annoyed. "Why did you do that Daddy?" she kept asking again and again. I ignored her and got down on my knees to begin picking them up. The bags were completely blocking the main aisle so there was a pile-up of people just watching me and I'm sure secretly critiquing my stocking ability. To make matters worse I heard a boy behind me say "Hey Mr. Ritchason, was that you who knocked all of those over?" I looked up from my spot on the floor to see one of my students who I'm constantly harping at to pick up all of his crap that he leaves on the floor. The shoe's on the other foot this time it seems.

Buddy check

Today was our third grade celebration as our students will be moving on to one of the two intermediate schools next year. This afternoon we went roller skating which is always something of a blast from the past for me. As I was growing up I remember many nights spent at that exact same roller rink, only that time it was known as the Chink Rink. (Welcome to Pekin, where we embrace blatant racism. In fact, they should just put that very sentence on the welcome sign as you enter Pekin.) Now today when I put on old-school skates (not those new-fangled blades) I add three inches to my already 6'5" frame. I look something like a giant, anorexic Godzilla stepping over tiny children.

This year I have some of klutziest nine-year olds on the planet. They trip over Harry Potter books, highlighters, and even individual sheets of notebook paper. It's a sight to behold. Now try putting those students out on a wooden rink as their talented classmates whiz past them. It's a recipe for disaster. Today one boy was out there skating for the very first time. I took his arm as I helped him make one lap around the giant oval. About halfway around he got startled when another boy skated past him. It should be noted, however, that the other boy was so far away from him that he could practically be considered a resident of Iowa. Needless to say, my boy started to fall and reached unsuccessfully for my shirt. When that didn't work he grabbed on to the crotch of my jeans with the conviction of a unsteady mountain climber clinging onto the side of the cliff just seconds away from falling to his death. Let's just say that I'm not sure what was injured more, his knee or my groin.

Later I noticed that after already being there for 45 minutes another girl in my class hadn't yet been out on the floor. When I asked her what she was waiting for she told me that she wasn't very good at skating. I volunteered to go out there with her and slowly make our way around. She kindly refused and I continued to ask her again at various times throughout the afternoon to no avail. With only about 20 minutes left until we were leaving she shimmied up to me at one of the tables where I was drinking a soda. She said, "Mr. Ritchason, I'm ready now. I love this song!" I mean what third grade girl doesn't love to groove to Elliot Yamin's "Wait For You"? I took her arm and led her out to the rink. Immediately some of the students started looking at me a little strangely. I looked over to the side to see one of my third grade colleagues laughing. As we made our way around the final curve I looked up at one of the monitors to see that in pink neon letters it said "Couple's skate." I looked like one of the nastiest educators in America right there. I kept watching for Chris Hansen to come charging from behind the DJ booth. I politely let go of her arm and went to finish my drink, counting down the minutes until the Pekin P.D. arrived.

Legacy

I received this email tonight from one of my students from last year who is now finishing up fourth grade. It cracked me up, especially the crazy things she remembered me doing.

Hello! How are you? I just wanted to send you an e-mail giving an oral report on this year. By the way, I saw you on the news tonight. Congratulations on raising so much money. I see you got your haircut too. Did you know that your clothes matched the board with numbers? I hope you didn't do that on purpos because that would be weired. Thanks for embrassing me at the choir concert last week!:) (Jk) Have you done the Charlie and the Chocolate Play? I tell my friends that you didn't just teach me multiplication facts or what paraventure means. You also taught us how to spit spray water like they do in the movies. Oh yes I still remember that Paul Macartny is the greatest songwriter ever and that I have to go on vacation to London when I get older. Anyway, Did you have another student like Anthony from last year? In my class I used to have this kid even worser than Anthony, his name was Matthew Roby. (A.K.A. Mr. Pukes Alot.) He would be all fine in the morning, then he would eat two lunches. Then, during long division time he would say he needed to go the nurse. The teacher would say no, because she knew his little trick. Finally he would stick his finger down his thorat, forcing him to throw up. YUck!!!!!!!!! Do you still hold the kids up in the air like in the Lion King and sing Happy Birthday to them? And of course you know I have a strict teacher. She can think of all the stupid reasons for her to yell at us. Like the time she told us to take an AR quiz on the biography we read, so I took mine. Then she called out all the names who had taken the quiz. She didn't call my name. So then I told the teacher I took mine. Then she yelled at me and said... "I checked them on Saturday! Your name wasn't on there!" I wanted to scream at her! So then I tried to take my test and when I hit the take test button it said... You cannot retake this quiz. So I raised my hand and I told Mrs. Murphy and she said... "Fine." I will check it again." I wanted to yell in her face and say... "Ha! In your FACE!" So aparently she had missed it. :( Boo Hoo for her. I saw Mrs. DiLeonardi at C.B. Smith when I went there for choir!:D One more thing. Who do you want to wing American Idol? I like David Archaleta but I bet you prefer David Cook since youre not a 10 year old girl like ne. For you anybody has to be better than Blake Lewis last year. I remember how much you hated him. Well anyway, that's all I have for now. I miss being in your class. E-mail me back!

Minor details

Once a week the school counselor comes by for a half hour to do some lame lesson. Mind you I'm not complaining because it gives me an extra 30 minutes of plan time on that afternoon. However, I thought she was supposed to talk to them about getting along with others or self-esteem or something like that. Instead all I've ever seen them do is run from one side of the room to the other and make things out of old newspapers. I'm not sure how this teaches them conflict resolution strategies but, um, okay. Well today I was there long enough to watch them partner up and trace around themselves on a large piece of butcher paper before cutting them out. I'm not sure what the lesson was about because when I came back into the classroom she was asking students what they would do if a homeless man showed up on their doorstep. After sharing some not too intelligent answers ("Ask him if he wants to play Wii with me in my bedroom"), they were then asked to decorate their paper cutout to resemble themselves. Some drew on long eyelashes or a Cubs jersey. As I sat at my desk grading a math worksheet, I heard the sound of paper being crumpled up. I looked up to find the counselor with a large, wadded up ball of paper in her hands. She pointed to one of the boys and said "He owes me both recesses tomorrow." I just nodded as it was getting time to pack up for the end of the day. After she left I asked the boy what he did. He looked down for a moment and then looked back at me with a sly smile. "I drew nuts and a wiener on him, Mr. Ritchason."

Back to the drawing board

The long-awaited class Mother's Day program finally arrives tomorrow afternoon. The students' fingers and throats are sore from making chintzy crafts and practicing lame skits and poems. However, you always have those couple of moms in the back of the room that have to pull out their tissues by the end of the show. This year we made a card that resembles a tic-tac-toe board on the front. In the center the students draw a picture of their mom, while the other boxes are filled with words, phrases, or memories about their mom. Some of them were really well done, but some of them, well, weren't so good. Below are a few of those that could have used a little more work.

I always wondered what happened to Skeletor after he was defeated by He-Man once and for all.

I can't quite decide if this is supposed to be an angry Tina Fey or an even uglier Ugly Betty.

We may have lost Heath Ledger, but his Joker character is alive and well. If I find a detached eyeball in the punch tomorrow you know who I'll be pointing the finger at.

You know your career is really in the crapper when you go from wannabe Idol on Wednesday to attending the third grade Mother's Day program on Friday. Sorry Jason Castro.

I think this last mom will be easy to spot tomorrow. I'll just look for the woman with the extremely large snake shooting out of her crotch.