... is what I am calling this day devoted to a substitute teaching job at a nearby elementary school. The explanation for it being 'semi', is that I thought I was signing on to only be there half of the day. As the job was listed on the web-site you can access to search for daily openings, the time indicated was from 7:30 to 12:00. So I agreed, and took the assignment. Then the confirmation email reported that the hours I would work as 7:30 to 12:30 - not all that different, and easily do-able since I was already there.
The time seems to creep by so slowly when you are in a classroom with two dozen bouncy babbling energetic five year olds, I must have looked at my watch forty times before ten o'clock. At which time they lined up to go to lunch, with their choices being Salisbury steak or Buffalo Chicken Sandwich. Even though they were warned that anything with 'buffalo' in the name was going to be spicy, most choose the sandwich. I thought I would be free by noon, so did not plan on eating at the school. We got in the lunch room, they got plates with their pitiful lunches and sat down. Concluding it must be lunch time, I asked if the chicken was really hot, and was told there were some that had not been dunked in hot sauce. I asked to be fed, and ate mine with ketchup on it. Then realized it is only ten a.m. and I've just eaten lunch. What am I going to do for the rest of the day?
It gets worse: after more time in the classroom with two dozen milling talkative little people, I began to wonder when the person I was substituting for was going to show up? It got to be noon, then 12:15, then half past, and no replacement for the replacement. Finally, getting on towards one o'clock, someone from the office came in and asked if I would stay until 2:30. I said: 'uuuuuummmm, yeah, I guess.' When what I really meant was 'No.' But completely unprepared for that question, I could not come up with an authentic-sounding excuse fast enough, so committed for the full day, when I thought I would be free by twelve-oh-one.
It gets better: while I was sitting with the kids in the lunch room, watching them not eat those Buffalo Chicken Sandwiches because they were too spicy, I read silly, cheezy jokes on their milk cartons.
This is what I saw:
What do you call a male cow who is taking a nap? A bull dozer. (The five year olds would never 'get' that!)
What did the lion say after eating a clown? That tasted funny!
Where do cows go on a date: Dinner and a moovie!
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