Friday, April 21, 2006

Bug Brain Field Day Distinction

The Bug Brain is here! This morning, I checked the UPS website
again. They said they couldn't find the Hillbilly Mansion. Yeah,
right. We've lived here 9 years now. We get at least 12 packages
a year from the Unqualified People Shipping. How could they
forget where we live? Because they are UNQUALIFIED, that's
how!

We had to stop by Wal*Mart on the way home from school,
much to the dismay of #1 son, who just KNEW his Bug Brain
was on the porch waiting for him. After threatening him, and
giving him $2.00 to shut up and go drive the racing car video
game, the shopping was completed. We arrived home about
5:00 and carried in the Wal*Mart bounty. No Bug Brain.

Five minutes later, #2 son came running in shouting, "The UPS
truck! The UPS truck!" #1 came running up the basement stairs,
tripped on the top one, and dived for the door. #2 announced
from the front porch, "She's around by the kitchen door!" #1
ran around and claimed his package. It was our old UPS driver,
the one who throws dog biscuits to the animals. They love her.
She's great. She knocks twice, and sets the box on the back
porch. Guess what? The package was in pristine condition. Not
a wrinkle, not a scratch, unopened. Yeah. Must be the other
driver they've been using. HooRah! The Bug Brain is here!

In other news, Hillbilly Mom sat outside for three hours today.
The sun is not kind to her leathery reptilian skin. It burned the
top of her her head, the part in her hair that is a tender pink
now, to accentuate the gray stripes that will trigger her 7th grade
students to ask her if she knows how to touch up her color.
It was our MAP Test reward field day. My team should have
won 2nd or 3rd place, but they didn't announce that this year,
only 1st. I am bitter. As are my students, and the other class
we combined with. But far be it from ME to criticize some
aspect of my job, so I won't go there. My buddy Mabel will
get an earful later.

Also today, at the teachers' lunch table, we heard tales of a
school two or three counties away. A team of our staff went
there to do some type of review as part of a new program
we are implementing this year. Kind of to observe, and write
an evaluation, as far as I can understand. One of the team
told us how great our faculty is, that sometimes we forget how
good our school really is.

I don't disagree with that statement. We gripe and carry on if
things don't go our way, but we really do have a good school.
We were recognized as a school with "Distinction in Performance"
after our last MSIP review. I'm not putting on airs. About one-
third of all schools in Missouri earn that recognition, I believe. But
hey, we could have not earned it, you know. We are not a big
school. We are not a rich school. We live in an economically
depressed area. We have more than our fair share of meth lab
busts. But we are doing something right with these kids. Our
drop-out rate last year was under two percent. That beats the
state and national average.

Anyhoo, let's get back to the horror story our staff member was
telling us about that other school. It seems that in one class he
observed, for the first 20 minutes, the students did what they
wanted while the teacher finished a game on her computer. In
another, the teacher said, "Do questions blah blah blah on pages
blah blah blah." Then he went to his computer. A few of the kids
opened their books to work. Others turned their desks to face
each other so they could talk. Others wandered around the room.
In another class, a student got up to spit a snotwad in the trash
can, missed, and hit the blackboard. In another class, he had to
leave before he was done with his report, because the chaos of
the room was too stressful to remain. He said the teachers did
not even try to control the students. Mr. K asked if maybe it
was because they had tried before, and knew the principal would
not do anything to the kids they referred to him. To which our
team member pointed out that he would have asked the principal
about that--if he could have found him.

Our team member wondered why, with someone from another
school there to observe, there weren't more learning activities
going on. He said, "If that was here, I know you all would at
least look like you were teaching something." Seriously though,
we do teach, even though it seems like the kids aren't learning.
Even the substitute teachers tell us how well-behaved our kids
are. For example, the worst problem one of them had was that
a boy put on his hat and would not remove it. Not exactly like
throwing desks, now is it?

And on that feel-good note, I should stop. But I won't. Because
I have to tell a Mr. K story. Remember last week, when that
kid said Mr. K was a fag because he carried a picture of a cat
in his wallet instead of a picture of his wife? Well, if you don't,
I just told you. Anyhoo, Mr. K's wife just had a baby, and we
have been asking to see a picture. Mr. K keeps forgetting. So
I asked him, "What did you do, put a picture of a kitten in your
wallet instead of your baby?"

I thought it was funny, anyway.

9 Comments:

Blogger The Unrepentant Gallivanter said...

Hahahahaaaa! Poor Mr. K. He must LOVE your wit. : )

10:23 AM  
Blogger MrsCoach2U said...

FedEx never can find us but UPS does but only because I've known the driver for years. I thought the kitten picture story was funny too, I'd have asked the same thing!

3:13 PM  
Blogger Rebecca said...

Hi Hillbilly Mom,
So it is true that the Postman always knocks twice. Just out of interest, in case it ever happens, how often does Fitty knock?
HooRoo
Rebecca

6:46 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

UnGal,
Yeah, Mr. K and I are tight. He truly appreciates my barbs that put his masculinity in question. Surely that's not why Mr. K is leaving our school at the end of the year, do you think? He is OH SO NOT a fag. We think it's funny to rib him about it. But the other 4 guys at the table get that wide-eyed 'that's the F WORD' look on their faces. I really don't like the word 'fag', but since that's what the kid called him, that's what the joke has to be.

Bec,
Fitty doesn't knock. He thumps. He thumps your head down the steps as he drags you out to his 55-gallon barrel, after cutting the phone lines to your mansion and slipping a stolen credit card into the lock. If that's not too graphic. How many nightmares can that spawn?

AND, my dear Rebecca, I DEMAND that you let me into the Big Blogger Two house! I have followed proper protocol. I have submitted my audition by email. Don't make me cut the phone lines and swipe my stolen credit card in your lock!

6:57 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Mrs.,
We tried the FedEx thingy for a pair of bowling shoes for #1 son. I swear it took them about 6 weeks to deliver. I can't even think of a name bad enough for FedEx. We're lucky the boy hadn't outgrown the shoes by the time they arrived.

7:01 PM  
Blogger Rebecca said...

Hi Hillbilly Mom,
You are in the house.
HooRoo
Big Blogger

9:52 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Bec,
How kind of you to invite me into the Big Blogger Two house. Was it my good manners? My polite request? Or my threat of going 'Fitty' on you that persuaded you to allow me in?

3:40 PM  
Blogger Redneck Diva said...

Another reason I am not a teacher... You people are amazing.

8:57 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Diva,
We are not allowed to duct tape the kids to the floor. I think there is some kind of law about that. Also, we can't beat them until candy falls out of their sisters. Go figure!

8:39 PM  

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