Saturday, June 6, 2009

School's Out... and My Reign of Terror is Over!

Yesterday was the last day of school for the year.  A good time was had by all. That also means that I'm no longer the responsible adult in charge. Can you believe they put me in charge in the first place?  To paraphrase Vic... 

What Were They Thinking?

The fact that they would take someone who barely escaped Mommy Jail and who is a confirmed Cat Lady and put them in charge of an entire school should definitely give one pause.   

Instead of putting the fear of god into anyone sent to the principal's office, I found that I was a magnet for kids who wanted to come hang out!   Kids would actually beg to come have lunch with me so they could play with the tree house and rubber chickens.  There were many days I went to go home, only to find a rubber chicken in my coat sleeve.  

Miscreants, one and all!  

When the Upper Middle Grades teacher couldn't find his class, the first place he'd look would be in my office.  OOPS!  

They actually formed a club called "The Beach Club" for those who got to hang out for lunch. They came up with the name "Beach Club" based on the Zen sand garden in my office that they liked to mess around with.  HAH!  Like it provided any atmosphere of Zen serenity as promised on the outside of the box it came in.  Why is it these things never work for me?

The only rule for Beach Club membership was that you weren't allowed to whine or complain while you were there.  No Butt-Chunks allowed.  (FYI... Butt-Chunk is a professional term used for someone who is always being annoying.)  Whining or complaining would result in immediate expulsion from the club.  

As part of the initiation into the Beach Club, you had 
to be willing to have your photograph taken with a rubber chicken hanging from your nose. (Founding members of the Beach Club are shown in the tasteful picture to your right.)  

We enjoyed many a lunch together, goofing around. spewing milk out of our noses when we laughed and spilling food all over the furniture. As a result, I kept up the Cat Lady appearance in my office. Big stains on the furniture, papers everywhere, candy wrappers on the floor, wads of paper that missed the trash can... etc.  You get the picture.

Occasionally, I had to act like a grown-up to keep them in line.  It was not pretty.  Imagine the principal of your school coming after you, ranting and brandishing a rubber chicken.  


At one point, someone in the office thought it would be a good idea to buy me a bull-horn. Again.... 


It had a really cool siren that could be used to scare the crap out of everyone just for fun!  Being a very small school, there was really no need for such a thing, but then again... it provided us with endless hours of mindless entertainment.  So invigorating to come up behind someone and make them go into cardiac arrest by saying "Hello!" really, REALLY loud!  It made me feel so important!  Like I really was in charge!

Most of the time, though, I felt like a fish out of water.  I was born to wreak havoc, rather than exude authority.  What can I say?  I'd much rather have a good time than have to be serious.  As a result I have a knack for getting kids to cooperate with me.  Unfortunately, the same can't be said of my interactions with grown-ups.

So... I asked to go back into the classroom next fall.  People were shocked at first... until it all started to make sense.  I'm just a fun-loving person who doesn't do "mean" well.  And they found a wonderful woman to replace me who's a Harvard graduate and actually knows what she's doing!  It's a win-win situation for everyone.   The only down side is that I'll be taking a serious cut in pay.   And you can't eat rubber chickens.

Hopefully I won't have to sell the rubber chickens to make ends meet.


Nicole Maynard-Sahar said...

Thanks for all the time you put in. That rubber chicken photo of you is a a great way to go out!

Madame DeFarge said...

Wish my head teacher had been like you. It would have been worth having a rubber chicken picture taken.

Aubrey said...


Dear TPAC... Thank YOU for allowing me to commune with your progeny during these formative years. Please don't blame me in years to come for how the Cheese Man turns out!

MME DeFarge... You're always welcome to join the Beach Club... just send picture of self with rubber chicken.

Aubs... Love you too!

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