When I get to school, I find out my crack pot of a substitute on Friday (I was in NM) put car rider children on the bus after school 'because they told her they rode it home'. YOU IDIOT. They are four. They could have told you they ate cotton candy for lunch and you would have fed it to them! Why don't we just move on to under age drinking!!!!!!! My lesson plans specifically told you who rode the bus. Three different teachers told you. My bus rider list is posted on my door. I HIGHLIGHTED who rode the bus in my lesson plans for you. Clearly you missed the 'read lesson plans and listen to adults and not 4 year olds' training day at substitute camp!
At around 9 am Husby shoots me a pic of a guy 'lying in his drive way' on the way to one of his stops today. We shall have to watch the news tonight to see if he was just napping or a victim of a drive by. That sorta freaked me out. By sorta I mean 548%.
Lunch goes smoothly until I take one of my final bites of my PB&J only to discover I have been eating a moldy sandwich. GAG. I'd like to point out that I am allergic to penicillin. So is my aide. I may have screwed myself.
I joyfully munch down a handful of M&M's from fellow pre-k teacher's candy stash before math at 1 pm. That's when the intercom buzzed and the school heard our terrified secretary's voice "This is a lockdown, this is not a drill".
I would now like to inform you of what it's like to cram FORTY 4 year olds and four adults in a tiny closet. I cannot think of a more pleasant experience. It's quite like donating blood. To a vampire. Or eating burnt toast with spoiled mayo. Or doing the dishes after they have sat in a house that hasn't been ventilated in 3 years.
The highlight of our closet adventure was thinking someone was in our classroom next door (I heard what sounded like chairs being thrown) but much to my relief it was just a precious friend banging on some metal art drying rack thing in our 'roomy, ventilated' secure closet.
Our intercom system doesn't work in the closet. We have no cell phone service in there. And we can't hear a thing in the 'outside' world. Then one kid bends over and all but craps her pants. Then another friend gets anxiety gas. And I duck my head in one of my fellow colleague's arm pit because I cannot handle the smell. It's like the kids are tooting to the song Jingle Bells.
Finally our secretary comes to rescue us. The cops caught the crazy man and we are 'safe' again. My principal picked a lousy day to be at an all day meeting off campus.
On my way home, a woman on the highway gets 'slightly agitated' at me and decides to tail gate me. Now, ya'll know how I am on the road. If you cut me off or ride my tail, I'm going to freak out. I slammed on my brakes and after this classy woman shows me how many middle fingers she has, she decides to take out her cell phone and take a picture of my license tag. Get it girl. You turn me into the cops. Tell them you rode my rear for three miles, almost swerved into oncoming traffic trying to 'document' how ridiculous you are, and flipped me off more times than I've eaten a Twinkie in the past week. And once you are done creating negative energy in my bubble, please go choke on something. Thanks.
How was your
XOXO Summer
No comments:
Post a Comment