Shimon was late to my morning study hall, but Shimon is always late to everything, so I took the note from the office and logged him in.
Some time later, the dean came and got him. Shortly after that, he was returned. Then taken away again. Then the dean stuck his head in again, and asked who he had spoken to after returning to class. He took one kid out, looked in his bag, and then told the rest that they had one minute to fess up about who had it, or it was bag searches all round and stiff penalties when caught.
Soreleh raised her hand, thereby doing the only smart thing any child was going to do all day.
Shimon, that blessed Child of God, showed up at school with his buddy Aharon this morning, and the two of them smoked a bissel dope before coming to class. Then, once they realized the fuzz (represented by our dean) was on to them, a complicated game of pass-the-pot-brownies began, going through an unsuspecting Calev, and ending up in Soreleh's hands.
I love teaching. It's just the students I could do without, sometimes.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Mr. Bluejeans Sr, quotes his old Criminal Justice professor "Book 'em all the lousy punks!".
Ah, the little dears! In my day, second graders were like that too.
Just wait until they hit puberty. At that point it won't be pot, but tobacco.
Aaaaah! Tobacco!
Post a Comment