For some reason, various departments at my school system's Central Office called a variety of meetings. Conveniently, they fell on four consecutive days this week. Nothing says overwhelmed like not being at the school to get the work done
So, today, after getting back from a budget meeting (where *ironically* we were told to cut back on traveling to the Central Office for meetings
Me (reading the office referral): So, why are you here? (I sound like a damn doctor don't I?)
Mr. Stares-A-Lot: shrugs his shoulder (At least he didn't answer with answers related to his health.)
Me: Seriously? You don't know why you are here? Would you like me to read the referral to you?
Mr. Stares-A-Lot: No, thanks. Ms. Mad Teacher is just a little angry because I make a lot of noises in the classroom. And she says the girl in front of me can't pay attention.
Me: Well, that is part of the problem. Ms. Mad Teacher has told you to lay off with the noises. And yet, you haven't stopped. Is there a problem?
Mr. Stares-A-Lot: Kind of. You see, I make the noises even if I don't think about them.
Me: Well, you aren't making them now. Have a go at it. Make some of the noises. I want to hear just how annoying you are in the classroom.
Mr. Stares-A-Lot (after a pregnant pause): Ummmm... Well... Ummmmm...
Me (thinking I've made him really uncomfortable): If you can make the noises in the classroom you can make them here. I want to hear what you've been doing.
Mr. Stares-A-Lot: Well, then can I have a piece of paper?
Me (with that head cocked-to-the-side confused look): A piece of paper?
Mr. Stares-A-Lot: Yeah. You see, first I need to make the paper airplane.
Sadly, our airplane escapades were interrupted by a bus driver bringing a runaway 4th grade student back to school. Apparently, Mr. Runaway wasn't allowed to go out for recess because his mother wanted him indoors due to an ear infection. He decided to run back to the house (only 5 or 6 miles away) to change his mother's mind. Thankfully, a bus was driving on the VERY BUSY road and tricked Mr. Runaway to get on the bus by telling him she'd take him home. She brought him back to school instead.
Me (barely able to speak with the fear of all that could have gone wrong): What were you thinking?
Mr. Runaway: I don't want anyone to yell at me?
Me (regaining vocal abilities): Well, you picked a fine way to show that.
In the end, Mr. Runaway's mother came rushing to the school when I called her. She promptly held and cuddled him
It saddens me when parents don't get the simple rules of the universe.
Good choices = good consequences
Bad choices = bad consequences
And the worst part is this mother is currently going to school to be a teacher.