This is why I drink

Days like today make me eager to get home and relax with a spicy Bloody Mary or three. At least the added bonus is I'm getting my vegetables, too.

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 and apparently, I'm not supposed to have a life and learn to just commit to working 24/7.

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 as if we get paid for using an extra tank of gas - which makes me realize that someone is getting paid for their gas usage), I was greeted by a teacher who had had it with a particular child. I do believe there was smoke hovering around her ears.

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 and I was shocked because if it had been my son I probably would have smacked him across the room for being so stupid. When I announced Mr. Runaway would be a Kindergarten student (remember, he is a 4th grader) the next day because I couldn't trust that he wouldn't run away, the mother argued and said he shouldn't have to be punished because, after all, he scared the living holy crap out of us imagining all the things that could have gone wrong.

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.