peanut butter and jelly.
milk and cookies.
bert and ernie.
peas and carrots.
sonny and cher.
yin and yang.
vodka and i . . .
and, as i have learned in my line of work: embarrassing moments and teaching.
now, usually it's the kids who find themselves in humiliation's unforgiving spotlight while i stifle snickers and snorts in the shadows. but i, too, have had my fair share of mortifying moments in the sun.
ok, more than my fair share . . .
like the time i asked everyone to please pass up their
or the time i was sitting at my desk between two students, a boy and a girl, and i passed an SBD (silent but deadly) fart . . . and blamed it on the boy.
or the time i asked for
and the list goes on, including my newest:
second period. full class. 42 students.
it was cold. (yeeeeeees, it gets cold in southern california.)
i'd worn a poncho to school. (yes, a PONCHO. but it was a very cool, very expensive, very awesome poncho. it was NOT a speedy gonzalez, frito bandito, or chiquita banana poncho. it was a sexy beast, badass, but still keepin' it classy, professional poncho.)
said poncho got itself stuck in my crack sometime between first period and second period. (what can i say? i've got some weight to lose, ok? so, yeah, it got in there good, alright? i mean, it was on an expedition. lewis and clark style. i'm serious. maybe it was looking for unchartered territory. maybe it was looking for gold . . . or jimmy hoffa . . . or atlantis . . . or el dorado . . . or the missing minutes from the watergate tape . . . i don't know, but it was up there good.)
i didn't feel it. (no comments, please.)
cheerleader: ms. banana, come here for a second.
me: why?
cheerleader: just come here for a moment.
me: WHY?
cheerleader: just do it.
me: (walks over to her seat) what's up?
cheerleader: (giggles) turn around.
me: why?
cheerleader: do it!
me: (turns)
cheerleader: (pulls poncho from my ass)
me: (feels violated!) what the
class: (rolls around on the floor laughing, dying)
is it not bad enough teachers get neither respect nor pay?
clearly, gahd hates teachers.
7 comments:
I once thought I saw a melted chocolate bar near the door to my class. But upon further inspection we all discovered it was not a chocolate bar but some one with poopy pants had left us all a present. Now at this point I was not going to attempt jumping over it to safety. I immediately called the office and told them that the 'culprit' who was well known and well stinky would be coming down to show them to gift while I and the rest of my class were going out the first floor window. Now you think our escape would be classy and orderly but once they all realized there was no fire but a dookie instead, the who thing became chaos. I walked to the playground and sat upon the hightest monkey bars until the all clear signal was given. I don't do poopy.
LOL. The humility.
I was working in a machine shop to help the all men operators one day. I decided to put a rag on the oily chair and when I sat up, I walked around with rag in crack.
I wanted to die.
My word verification is 'fartl' How fitting.
A couple of years ago, I ate shit in front of my 5th period junior English class. I mean ATE IT. I somehow managed to trip over computer cords, launch into the whiteboard, nearly ripped the overhead off its kart and landed behind my desk.
The class was dead silent. And then I hear one adolescent voice say, "Oh shit."
Oh shit is right.
Hah, Holly, I only ever hear my teen-aged God daughters use the expression "ate shit" to describe wipe-outs on the ski hill.
I feel better about it now that I know official educators us it too : D
Lana? You got your poncho up your ass?
ROFL! Thats very dignified!
...funny stuff. Why couldn't I have had a teacher like you in high school?
I was stuck with four year's worth of beards, attitudes, and dentures...
Great post,
EL
I told my students to "use a condom" instead of "use a comma" last week.
In my defense, they should practice safe sex.
You're awesome - and brilliant!
C
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