School Story

I thought I would reward my patient readers with some adventures from my professional life. Few have experienced this excitement (Amy, you remember the plethora of nose-pickers.), and only a few live it each and every day. If anyone would ever like to experience some of this joy with me one day, just let me know. I can't guarantee anything truly exciting will happen, but events, dialogue, and observations of the tween in his or her natural habitat are sure to entertain and enlighten.

Alicia (I may or may not be using real names here.) would complain most days about a headache or stomachache and call her mom or dad to come pick her up. One normal day, Alicia complained in the morning to me about a stomachache. Now, spring conferences were just under my belt. Her parents and I discussed her need to leave school, and her mom, an RN, told me that unless she was running a fever and near death, keep her in school. Well, Alicia was not running a fever and was still talking just as much as usual (a lot), so back to her seat she went.

Alicia persisted. After lunch, she went to the office again to have her temperature taken. Normal. She called home anyway, and her mom told her that she could stick it out for the rest of the day. I reitterated that with an hour left to go of school, suggesting she put her head down on her desktop in the back of the room if she needed to.

In the midst of one of my fascinating science lessons, I heard a pop can open. So help me, there better not be a kid poppin' a top in my classroom! I looked around for the parched culprit, but instead found a gagging cluster of students. After telling them to back off, I saw Alicia, pale and hunched over a small puddle of lunch. Oops. My bad.

As it turns out, Alicia had appendicitis, which her mom caught later that evening when Alicia was moaning and twisting while trying to soak in the bathtub. Alicia recovered quickly from her surgery, and was back to school in a week. Her science book, however, was not so lucky.

PBA?

How bad is it that my 4-year-old son continuously beat me and his grandpa in bowling this weekend? He was so on top of his game that he could tell you how many spares and strikes he had going in each game. Lucky for all involved, we were playing on the Wii. If we had been playing with a real bowling ball, I'm pretty sure Robby would have killed himself or someone else with his very unorthodox throwing style. I'm now off to find a Wii to practice so I can beat my 4-year-old. Wish me luck!