Scene: The school gym during morning bus duty
A fourth grader rushes up to me. His face is red and there is sweat on his brow. He looks anxious and upset. I immediately ask, “Carlton, what’s wrong?”
Then the words that strike fear in any teacher’s heart: “I just threw up in the bathroom!” (Which I admit is better than throwing up at my feet which has happened on more than one occasion over the years.)
I can feel his hot breath on my face as he spits out the words. I utter the appropriate words of sympathy (and I truly feel sympathetic - he's obviously sick), and I send him to the clinic . . . while visions of the stomach virus germs in that hot breath dance in my head.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I will send you a card in three and a half days, when you will obviously be sick too.
We have a rule in my class. Although the students are young adults, I do not believe they should roam at will. One should ask-- politely, with good grammar and manners-- when one wishes egress from my palace of knowledge. BUT. Feel the need to drive the porcelain bus or give the technicolor yawn, and I say, catch my eye if you can but if not, I'll figure it out and send out a rescue party when the shootin' is over.
Post a Comment