Where I never wanted to end up

A girl that was in my class two years ago stopped by today after school to tell me that she was moving. Now I’ve gotta admit that this young lady was always quite odd, but I grew to actually like her quite a bit. So as we were standing outside at the playground this afternoon I asked her the requisite questions about where she was moving to and if she was looking forward to it. We talked for a few more minutes and just before she left I wished her good luck and told her that I knew she’d do great at her new school. As she walked away through the crowd of parents she turned back to look at me, smiled, and said “I still have your picture….” Awww, how sweet all this time later, I thought, until she added “….in my underwear drawer.”

Say cheese

Today was school picture day, and each spring we have the same old man come in to take the photos. It’s quite honestly one of the most painful things to endure. Last year when he was taking my picture for the yearbook he said, “Hey stilts, smile into the camera and say ‘Ally the alligator’.” At that moment I’m not sure which would have brought me greater joy, shoving the stilts where the sun doesn’t shine or watching with delight as an alligator devoured his head. I think he mistakenly thinks he’s a stand-up comic that got lost on his way to some seedy comedy club in Des Moines. He tries to make the students smile by using such sure-fire zingers as calling for the next boy in line by singing “John John the brown haired boy” like some annoying pied piper at a renaissance fair.

I always brace myself whenever they call our class down. I’m pretty sure a lesser man would be driven to drink copious amounts of alcohol. So today we lined up and waited our turn until he poked his head around the corner and called for the Jolly Green Giant’s class. Yep, he really did. (News flash, I am wickedly tall.) The first boy entered the room and straightened his shirt that had a basketball on it. The photographer proceeded to ask him “Are you a baller?” Okay, when you’re 70 years old you are way past being allowed to say that word. Let’s be honest, even at my age if I say “baller” I look like a schmuck. A few students later he called up a girl who is of mixed ethnicity. He took a look at her and said “Get on up here Miss Mocha.” I know I’m from Pekin and all, but I’m pretty sure that’s racist, right? The second to the last person to get photographed was the sweetest, quietest girl in the class. She sat down and grinned into the camera. Apparently this wasn’t enough for the photographer because he then instructed her to give him her “sexiest smile.” I just stared at him in shock and glared at him with the toughest look I could muster. (Let’s be honest, I’m not very intimidating). I was thisclose to pulling him aside and reminding him that this wasn’t a porn shoot. At this point I pushed the last boy through as quickly as possible, anxious to wrap up these perverted Glamour Shots.

Fire safety

This afternoon I was reading a book with a group of students about historic fires, like the Great Chicago Fire and the Great Fire of London. The end of the book listed a number of fire safety tips which we read through together. One of the boys in the group raised his hand. Now to give you some background, this boy is knowledgeable about a host of topics, but he’s very intense while sharing the information. Throughout the school year I’ve learned what percentage of Jupiter’s atmosphere is hydrogen (89%), which is the smallest Hawaiian island (Kahoolawe), and the name of the Pilgrim baby born at sea (Oceanus). You have to pick the right moment to call on him because if you just call on him at will you’ll be locked into a 20-minute dissertation on the migratory patterns of sea turtles. When I called on him, he caught me off guard because all he said was “My grandpa and grandma moved a heavy piano out of their house once.” We all sat there waiting for the connection to fire safety. It never came so I finally prompted him and asked what this had to do with what we were talking about. Rather nonchalantly he explained that the house was on fire when this was all going. Ah, so now it all tied together. Like we were reading about, make sure you have an escape plan….for rescuing a stinking giant piano. Before getting back into the book, he added “And my aunt and uncle died in the fire.” I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t see that heartwarming ending coming. Let this be a lesson to you kids. When a fire is ravaging your house, make sure you exert all your energy pushing out a large musical instrument while your relatives are burning up like the bad guy in Backdraft.

A birthday surprise

Today was the birthday of one of the girls in my class. She wasn't exactly having a great day. Her mom had yelled at her before school and thus had forgotten her birthday treats at home. Needless to say I tried to be especially nice to her today. When we sing "Happy Birthday" I always let the kids stand on their chairs and the birthday person stand on top of their table. (It bugs the crap out of the older teachers, which I relish.) So today as we finished up singing, trying to make her birthday a little more special, I hopped up on the table with her. I picked her up and held her up to the ceiling, singing "The Circle of Life." We looked like Simba and Rifiki on the cover of The Lion King DVD. In my head I imagined that this would be a moment she would always remember whenever she thought back to her ninth birthday.....until she farted in my face. I'm guessing it was the fried French toast sticks and greasy sausage patty she ate for lunch. An image of panic on both of our faces, she glanced down at me and I craned my neck to look up at her. Remembering the crappy day she was having (literally), I simply held my breath and set her back down at her seat. Our silence spoke volumes.