Hillbilly HO-Down

As I write this, I've just returned from a Halloween dance at our
middle school. My creative juices are flowing. I'll clean up that
mess later, with a Swiffer wet-mop. Anyhoo, a good time was
had by all at the dance. Batman won the costume contest. A
little bitty Batman, the kindergarten son of one of our teachers.
He celebrated his victory by clapping both hands over his ears
to drown out the cheers.

How times have changed! Some of the "costumes" were prom
dresses and heels. One such outfit was on a boy. We didn't
have as much trouble with the dirty dancing as last year, when
we had a circle of 8th grade boys with a girl in their midst.
They would take turns going up to bump their front part with
her back part. Not this year. There was still dirty dancing
from the girls, but the boys were chickens. So the girls danced
together.

At what point do you break up dirty-dancing girls? I'm sure
they thought nothing of it. Should we be prudes, and tell them
to cut it out? We don't let them hold hands or hug in the hall,
because that's against the boy/girl rules. I don't know how
to proceed here.

The favorite pastime of the boys this evening was to grab a
part of another's costume, and run around the gym with it.
One of my students, the alleged spitwad-shooter of 5th hour,
asked one of the teachers to dance. Any other time, this
would have been highly inappropriate (note to self, Mary
Kay Letourneau). Granted, she looked mighty fetching in
that puffy, shiny Hershey kiss costume. He held out his hand,
placed his other hand firmly on her rounded silver back, and
escorted her through the spooky inflatible archway. She
nipped the bud there, though. No dance.

I caught a couple of hoochies at the door, talking to a 9th
grader who lives near the school. Grow up, boy. Don't be
the creepy 28-year-old who dates 15-year-olds. Haven't
you seen Dazed and Confused, for cryin' out loud? I was
actually going outside to make a phone call, and caught them
by accident. The boy took off for home. He didn't want none
of Hillbilly Mom, since I had just written him up that morning
for flipping off kids as he got off the bus yesterday afternoon.

There were a couple of near-casualties. A Scream mask
malfunctioned, and shot fake blood all over the tile floor
of the hallway. The principal took away Death's scythe and
a maniac's meat cleaver. I was nearly blinded by the fairy
wing of a teacher's costume. A staff member told me not to
worry, I should have seen her nearly collapse the inflatible
spooky archway. I replied that I was worried, because I
had parked next to her car with the collapsed hood from
running her car under the back end of a bus the other day.
We are not allowed to talk about that embarrassing little
faux pas, though.

I have now met my requirement of chaperoning one school
dance. One teacher says he always picks the last one, since
you never know what could happen between now and then.
Uh...pessimist much? Like what, the world might end? Two
other teachers are rumored to have chosen the February
dance because they think it might be snowed out, and then
not rescheduled. As that little voice in my head was saying
"Doh!", another teacher said, "February. Isn't that dance the
Homecoming Coronation?"

Muahahahahah!