The Education of a Principal

Today, two new students started at my school. They are not in the same grade and they do not go home to the same address.

And they have left us wondering how in the heck Charles Manson got conjugal visits with fertile women.

They make Barbie Stickers seem like, well, a doll.

Child number one stripped down to just his pants (no socks, shoes, shirt or jacket) and then ran. His mother says he is adjusting to our school. My dad was in the military and I changed schools several times. This may explain my predisposition for stripping.

Child number two just talked out of his head about flying around the school. And there were lots of grunts and groans. We called the last school and they were working to get a copy of the psychological that was completed on him after he jumped out of a window. Apparently, he often acts out scenes from various movies. The flying talk clearly suggests he is involved in a Spiderman scene (I swear that is what the counselor told me). We hear his Indiana Jones scenes are not to be missed.

In addition to trying to settle down the new kids, one mother got upset with me because I had her daughter call her about the checks she stole from home. I now know my place and won't bother this mother again with concerns about her daughter's future. Or the future of her money that may be vamoosed if the wrong person (besides her daughter) gets their hands on her random personal checks floating around.

Just when I was feeling a bit frustrated with the stress (and it was stressful today for some reason), I ran into my friend's son. Mr. Brilliant is a happy go lucky kid who seems to know far more than the average 6 year old. Since his mother's cancer diagnosis, I've given them a lot more attention. Today, he gave me attention.

Mr. Brilliant: Hey. I've been thinking about how you could help my mom. (I love the honesty of children.)

Me: Really. What can I do?

Mr. Brilliant: Well, she is going to start chemotherapy next week and two weeks after that she is going to lose her hair. I think you should get her some hats. My mom would really like that.

And suddenly, Charles Manson's love children and the angry parents didn't seem to matter so much.