Tuesday, September 05, 2006

School's in Sessio-- Oh Wait... No It's Not

What the shit is the deal with the first day of school being a "half day"? They just had a three day weekend, for cry-eye -- they're ready to go, man! They're ready to dig in to a whole new year and what happens? Oh, sorry, school's only open for three hours today. Go on back home, kids. We'll start for real tomorrow. Maybe. Either open the damn school or don't -- quit dickin' around!

The kiddies sure did enjoy those few minutes they spent there, though. The old lady and I hung with Miss O in her new kindergarten class for the morning. Miss O was a little quiet, a bit apprehensive, but she seemed excited. Her teacher is great and it looks like a pretty good group of kids. Eighteen of them, though. Big old class. And there were a couple of annoying, loud-mouthed boys who were answering all the teacher's questions. Those aggressive little fuckers. I told Miss O, "Look, don't be afraid to shout out the answers when your teacher asks a question. Don't let those boys do all the talking. Show everybody that Miss O is in the class and she's there to rock the kindergizzle!" She told me she'd do her best. She's also got a great after-care room that she goes to for the afternoon. She jumped right in there, found a purple tiara, plopped it on her head and started digging into the cubbies and shit. She's rarin' to go.

Mr. Z's class sounds promising, too. He seems to dig his new teacher and he has a bunch of friends in his class, which is nice. The fucked thing is, there was this bully in his class two years ago who gave him a really hard time. Total tormenter. Actually, the little fucker gave a lot of kids a hard time -- classic bully shithead. Well, he moved away after that year and there was much rejoicing. Then, Mr. Z heard that the kid had moved back into town and was coming back to school. We told him it was just a rumor and it couldn't possible be true.

It was. And, of course, the fucker is in his class. Mr. Z is like a fucking bull's-eye for asswipes like him. He's two years younger than the other kids in his class, kind, trusting and cries at the drop of a hat. He's a sitting duck. I told him to ignore the kid and let me know if he pulls even a whiff of bullshit. I know some other parents who are just waiting for this kid to fuck up and I have no qualms with banding together and riding the lunkhead out of town on a rail. Bring it, bully-boy! I double-dog dare you!

Nobody fucks with the crabbykids.

3 comments:

Alex said...

If you need somewhere to send the kiddos for a while, there are still plenty of orientation sessions to attend at my grad school. They supply fruit, cookies, and juice, so you won't need to feed the kids when they get home, either.

Just make sure they take decent notes for me, and I'll take care of the rest (i.e. I'll finally get a damned nap in this week).

crabbydad said...

Brilliant idea, Alex! Mr. Z is a very conscientious note-taker but I'll have to send a tape recorder along with Miss O. Hope you don't mind transcribing. Thanks!

erin said...

yeah, I've been sort of living on the free muffins and coffee they've been giving us during orientation. I think they know that it's the only way we won't starve to death before we get our first "stipend" cheque. And yeah, that's right, it's spelt cheque, not check damnit!