Random Middle Schoolishness

We allow one student at a time to use the bathroom in middle school. There are reasons for this, but they are boring so let's move on.

The other day a student came up, asked to use the bathroom, was told to use the sign out sheet, and off he went.

Two seconds later, another student came up, grabbed the sign out sheet, and started signing himself out to the restroom.

Hey. Joe's using the bathroom. You have to wait until he gets back.

Uh. OK.

Bob goes back to his seat. Quiet, independent reading time continues.

A noxious odor swivels slowly across the floor and under my seat, winding its way around me from the floor up until it hits my nostrils and sends them flaring. I look up to see my entire classroom looking like the Jesse James' gang, shirts pulled up and over their noses like bandits.

Bob has magically appeared by the side of my desk, head bobbing at the sign-in sheet, feet shuffling back and forth, a silly, sheepish grin on his face.

Oh Good Lord Bob. Yes. Go NOW.

Bob starts to sign the sheet, the odor around my desk becoming darker and denser with each passing second.

LIKE RIGHT NOW BOB. GOGOGO

Bob runs a weird little dance down the hall while I direct a couple of students to open ALL closed windows.

MISS... Bob's doing the dodo run..

Bandit shirt masks shiver in giggledom across the entire room.

* * *

Two days ago I walked out of one door of my classroom to get a breath of fresh air, walked down to the other door and took a long breath while I enjoyed the view, then reentered my class.

Unknowingly stepping through a water puddle in the process.

Feeling centered and revived, I took that first step into my class and did an Ice-Skating with the Stars level faux paus (and no, I have not actually watched that show).

I slip. I slide. I grasp at the ledge of the dry erase board. I go down.

I pick myself up as quickly and with as much dignity as I can muster.

Miss!!! Are you OK.

I'm fine.

Are you sure you didn't break your leg?

Yes. I'm sure.

Cause that's how Steven broke his foot. He fell down running through his own house.

I look back at Steven who just made it onto crutches after a month in a wheel chair. I never asked how he broke his foot, but the severity of of convalescence had me thinking major surgery or a stunt of Wild Boys level antics.

You broke your foot falling down in your house?

Miss. Really? Like I haven't been teased enough already.

For more Random Fun, head on over to Keely's at the Unmom's.