Saturday, December 10
Kids and their stupid, stupid, stupid germs
It finally happened. The past few days I've been bed-ridden with this nasty bug I picked up somewhere. The worst part was that it hit me right in the middle of teaching this kindergarten class on Thursday.
Luckily that class has some very talented aides that were able to handle things while I sat at the teacher's desk, shivering, sweating, and trying to resemble authority between throaty, hacking coughs.
So back to this cold. It's really not all the bad though. Two days with a fever around 102 is kind of like a vacation to the tropics on the sub pay scale!
Luckily that class has some very talented aides that were able to handle things while I sat at the teacher's desk, shivering, sweating, and trying to resemble authority between throaty, hacking coughs.
So back to this cold. It's really not all the bad though. Two days with a fever around 102 is kind of like a vacation to the tropics on the sub pay scale!
Wednesday, December 7
ROVING!
Three hours, four classes. I refed dodge ball, supervised a computer lab, explained the difference between Greenland and Iceland (Icelanders are a bunch of dirty, dirty bastards), and heard 6th graders unveil such riveting facts of Jackie Joyner-Kersee's life as "She ate junk food."
Not a bad day at all.
Not a bad day at all.
Monday, December 5
The Invisible Teacher and Noses
Alright two days I've got to cover, but it'll be quick.
FRIDAY
Called into a kindergarten class, nothing unusual about that. What was unusual, however, was the teacher's sudden appearance a hour into the day. She walked in, the class barely acknowledges her and she looks for her car keys for a hour and a half. This was the entrance of a drifter, not the class' teacher.
And, hey, why call me? Wouldn't it have made more financial sense if she had taught, and maybe asked her aide or even paid a hobo a few bucks to look for her keys? Instead of calling in the 100 buck-a-day pro?
TODAY
Here's an unfortunate truth:
The amount of hugs a student will give his teacher is in direct proportion to the runniness of his nose.
Today I was a freekin' rockstar. The kids loved me. They did what I said. When they didn't, they listened to the stern-talking-to. Most of them assumed I would be back tomorrow no matter how much I told them I wouldn't.
The kids just wouldn't stop hugging me either, which is great anytime of year 'cept cold season. So these hugs were entirely one-sided, the sweet embrace of a child versus all of my desperate pushes and shoves.
FRIDAY
Called into a kindergarten class, nothing unusual about that. What was unusual, however, was the teacher's sudden appearance a hour into the day. She walked in, the class barely acknowledges her and she looks for her car keys for a hour and a half. This was the entrance of a drifter, not the class' teacher.
And, hey, why call me? Wouldn't it have made more financial sense if she had taught, and maybe asked her aide or even paid a hobo a few bucks to look for her keys? Instead of calling in the 100 buck-a-day pro?
TODAY
Here's an unfortunate truth:
The amount of hugs a student will give his teacher is in direct proportion to the runniness of his nose.
Today I was a freekin' rockstar. The kids loved me. They did what I said. When they didn't, they listened to the stern-talking-to. Most of them assumed I would be back tomorrow no matter how much I told them I wouldn't.
The kids just wouldn't stop hugging me either, which is great anytime of year 'cept cold season. So these hugs were entirely one-sided, the sweet embrace of a child versus all of my desperate pushes and shoves.
Thursday, December 1
Retreat
So this phone call wakes me up at 6 and of course it's the district. I'm on the verge of accepting a job in a 3rd grade class at a great school, when I hear this recorded note from teacher.
I don't have anything planned, you'll have to bring your own activities for the class.
Here I am smothered under a down comforter while outside there's this squall. The rain is coming down in sheets, an H2 is blown past my bedroom window, and I can't think of anything that would keep a bunch of scab-picking, snot-ignoring, brats occupied for five minutes. The automated system hangs up on me before I can bring myself to accept or decline the thing, so I sleep in three more hours.
But yesterday was great. I had the perfect day. The teacher left no homework for her fourth-graders. A X-Ray technician dropped by and talked to the class. One of the girls even brought Hawaiian cookies from her trip to Hawaii.
I could do no wrong.
At the end of the day this French-Canadian-American boy couldn't bring himself to leave the class. He finally pulled on my khakis to get my attention and, shyly avoiding eye contact, said:
"You're the best sub I ever had."
Sure, it might have been the Macadamia-Chocolate Chip cookies talking, but I'll take it.
I don't have anything planned, you'll have to bring your own activities for the class.
Here I am smothered under a down comforter while outside there's this squall. The rain is coming down in sheets, an H2 is blown past my bedroom window, and I can't think of anything that would keep a bunch of scab-picking, snot-ignoring, brats occupied for five minutes. The automated system hangs up on me before I can bring myself to accept or decline the thing, so I sleep in three more hours.
But yesterday was great. I had the perfect day. The teacher left no homework for her fourth-graders. A X-Ray technician dropped by and talked to the class. One of the girls even brought Hawaiian cookies from her trip to Hawaii.
I could do no wrong.
At the end of the day this French-Canadian-American boy couldn't bring himself to leave the class. He finally pulled on my khakis to get my attention and, shyly avoiding eye contact, said:
"You're the best sub I ever had."
Sure, it might have been the Macadamia-Chocolate Chip cookies talking, but I'll take it.
