1: The number of kids whose dogs had really died yesterday after I jokingly said the hypothetical in my senior class: so, let's say your dog died yesterday (erm, I hope nobody's dog really died yesterday...)
1: The number of kids who came up to me after class to say: Uh, yeah, Ms. Prokott, I hate to say this, but Megan's dog really did die yesterday.
27: The number of kids I assigned to detention today, because they didn't have their homework done; 1/3 of my freshmen.
6: The number of quizzes that I graded out of 8 at school today that had failing grades (the rest will be graded tonight).
1: The number of students, who on the essay question on that test spelled house such as: hows.
*
Fart on today's face.
Yesterday I drew boobs on the board when talking about a naked lady. I did this first hour. But then, after that class, I said to myself: Jean, what the fuck are you doing? You can't fucking draw boobs on the board, even if they are to circles on a stick figure! You are going to get as fired as fuck. For the rest of the hours of the day, I drew black "censor" squares over the invisible genitals of my stick figures. The kids laughed more at the censor squares. Duh. Because your English teacher drawing circle-boobs has got to be uncomfortable.
How often I do things in class and say: what the fuck were you thinking, you irresponsible person in charge of children. How often to I say: Jean. Stop drawing boobs.
Same shit, different outfit.
1 comment:
Jean. Stop drawing boobs. And do NOT give those valentines to any of your students.
I love the censorship bars.
Sometimes, I'm so, so glad I teach college and can kind of get away with the ridiculously inappropriate things I often say. Otherwise, I, too, would get fired as fuck.
Post a Comment