Hillbilly Hankerin'

Be careful what you wish for. I had a hankerin' for something of
interest to happen today. Shame on me. It is a full moon AND
Friday the Thirteenth, isn't it?

A few things happened at school, but I won't go into detail. Let's
just say that I have two less students than I had yesterday, and
the reasons are totally unrelated, and not my fault.. We had some
surprise guests during our lunch hour. I called a parent, and left a
message which I am sure will be erased before the parent hears it.
#1 son came down with The Pinkeye. #2 son came home without
a purple pawprint. I paid $75 for a Zyrtec prescription. I spilled a
Coke in my large SUV. And it snowed all day, but we have nothing
to show for it.

The class that tricked me had a paper due today, a letter to an
elected official. I asked if it was done. Yes, it's in my notebook.
I'm working on it now. I turned it in yesterday. I'm going to type
it up this hour. The same thing with the 30 vocabulary boxes that
were due today. Here, look at mine, all done. I have to do this
letter first. Mine are done. All done, in my pack. SCREECH!
(Like the needle going across an old vinyl 33 1/3 record on a
cheap stereo when your sister jumps rope right next to it.) One
of these students LIED! I did not know that until lunch. Mr. K
mentioned that one of them had nothing to turn in. Not ONE of
the 30 vocab. Nada. Zilch. The big goose-egg. Zip. Squat.
The null set.

I did what I had to do. It's not nice to fool Hillbilly Mom. I got
the phone number. I called from the teachers' workroom so I had
a witness. Thanks, Ms. D. Sorry you didn't have to say "BEEEEP"
as I instructed you, to imitate the bell, to get me off the phone if I
got tied up. Wouldn't you know it--when you WANT to talk to
parents, they are not available. I left a message concerning the
falsehood. I think it may be removed before it reaches the intended
audience. Maybe not. But I've heard too many times concerning
letters being mailed home: "Who cares. I pick up the mail." Just
yesterday, Mr. K promised several students a phone call. "Who
cares? WE answer the phone."

#1 son got off the bus yesterday with a red eye. I asked if he was
crying. "NO!" He said something blew into it on lunch recess, and
he rubbed it. This morning, it was a little less red, but had a very
tiny spec of green crust on one eyelash. Miniscule, really. A crumb.
I found the antibiotic eyedrops that #2 took a month ago, when he
was sent home from school with The Pinkeye. Hey, I gave him the
full course of treatment. It was left because he only needed it in
one eye. At first. It also has two refills. So I dosed up #1 and sent
him to school, with strict instructions to avoid the nurse. Mission
accomplished. Though he did say the PE teacher grilled him about
it, and he told her, "My mom is giving me medicine for it." She told
him OK, but that if it got ANY worse, he had to go to the nurse.
You have to be crafty to outwit these elementary teachers. They're
h***bent on sending home the student population, one at a time.
THEY call it "doing our job." I imagine they do. I try to avoid them,
lest I find out some mischief perpetrated by my spawn.

#2 son brought home his daily folder with no stamp of a purple
pawprint on Monday. I know he has a new student teacher. Silly
me, I thought maybe she wasn't stamping, or maybe she had been
too busy. I asked him about it Tuesday, when again he had no print.
"I don't know why I don't have one," he answered sweetly, looking
bewildered. Wednesday, no purple pawprint. "Who is teaching
class?" "Miss Student Teacher. Miss Regular Teacher sits at the
front of the room, and says that if we get up to ask her something,
we will have to pull our card." That's not something perverted.
That is classroom discipline. I asked if that was why no pawprint.
"Well, the whole class got in trouble today, and had to pull a card."
Thursday, not only no pawprint, but a big '10' was circled in the
box for Thursday. I asked if he'd been getting in trouble, and that
was the reason for no pawprint. "Yeeeessss," he hung his head.
He would have stubbed his toe in the dirt, but he was sitting in
the bathtub, which is not very condusive to that sort of thing. I
told him if he didn't have a pawprint Friday, he would lose his
GameBoys and GameCube for the night. Guess what? Oh, I
already told you. He didn't get a pawprint today. I think he is
tolerating the withdrawal fairly well. He has been Lego-building.
Monday we will start with the spanking, if this GameBoy removal
proves to be ineffective. Yes. I spank my children. WOOOOO!
Run call 1-800-BAD-MOM. Ha ha! That's not enough numbers.
Dial all you want, SUCKERS!

$75 Zyrtec. We will have to jump through the same hoops as we
did with #1 to get the cheap-a$$ insurance to pay their share so
that will ONLY cost me $45. Crooks! I bet it's about $8 for
people without insurance.

#1 had a Coke with his fast-food, Dad's-gone-to-Brazil, Hillbilly-
Mom-doesn't-have-to-cook, drive-thru supper. When we stopped
at the mailbox, he thrust it at me. "Hold this." "No. I'm taking off
my seatbelt." "HERE!" He thrust it at me. I set it on the steering
wheel. The seatbelt buckle smacked it. Down it poured, forming
Lake Coke Classic at my feet, which was filled quickly by its
tributaries, the Left Fork and Right Fork of the Twin Shin Rivers,
not even knowing that it was missing the contents of New Shoe
Pond. #1 son, make this Note-to-Self: The large SUV is equipped
with a plethora of cup holders. Addendum to Note-to-Self: When
that vein in Mom's head throbs, it is best to remain quiet and make
no sudden moves.

The snow was beautiful, but melty. On the way home, we saw a
bunch stuck to the north sides of the trees. That was the good news.
The bad news is that sleds don't slide very well on tree bark.