Thursday, February 11, 2010

Is That Puke? Yeah, It's Time For Vacation...

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you are probably familiar with the Legend of the Seat Sack which is really just a story of how my school prioritized new seat sacks complete with embroidered mascot over paper.  You know, 'cuz in this digital age, who needs paper?  Wait what?  Our classroom only has four computers?  And three of them work?  Hm...maybe we should rethink that whole paper thing after all.  I never thought I'd see the day when wanting a ream of paper for my friend would make me seem old school.

Regardless.  We got the seat sacks.  And yes, they were lovely...however, perhaps they weren't the investment that the Powers That Be thought they might have been.  They certainly were destined to only get one use. I understand that you could say the same thing about paper, but to me, the idea of teaching without paper is SIMPLY RIDICULOUS.

Within a few months (I would say by this time of year) the seat sacks were stained in marker, pencil shavings and assorted childhood goo.  Some friends had sneaked in time to add a little personal flair to their seat sack by cutting a nifty border with their scissors.  (You know, before I freaked out patiently informed them that the seat sack was not theirs to keep and would indeed be passed on to another child the following year.)  Basically, they were living science experiments and I had vowed never to actually stick my hand in one ever ever again.  (Long story.)

So, by the time February vacation rolled around, the seat sacks were looking a little worse for wear.  I guess you could say the same thing about the rest of us too.  It always seems that everyone gets sick right before a vacation too.  It's like their little bodies can sense the impending time off and want to make sure they have an opportunity to pass the germs around before we all get a break from one another.  Because sharing is caring.

One of my Super Colleagues has a particularly sick child who probably should have stayed the hell home but that would be common sense now, wouldn't it? who was looking particularly green.  When said child jumped out of his seat and began to run out of the classroom, she didn't even question it.  You only have to see a kid hurl in the corner of your classroom once and you will remember that urgent look forever. Run like the wind, sweetheart!  However, her little friend did not make it out the door.  Rather he stopped short, turned and puked INTO the seat sack of another child.  I'm fairly certain the recipient was traumatized, not to mention the fact that her white board and marker were ruined.

At lunch, my Super Colleague shared the story with the rest of us inspiring the rest of us to spend the remainder of the day counting down the hours.   I mean  you know it's over when the sick kid pukes, right?

5 comments:

ACTunforgettable said...

The first rule I ever teach my kids is don't throw up in my classroom...this was after a child puked on my Anne Klein shoes! Years later no one has done it again. Seat sacks look all nice and organized but I never quite thought they were going to be worth the money. Thanks for verifying that for me!

Elouise Tomás said...

A student puked in my class on Monday. I teach in a high school so I just sent him to the nurse with the trash can he puked in. My school is the type that doesn't give any tips on how to deal with puke in the room or in trash cans, so this served two purposes: removed it from the room AND as a last resort if he got sick on the LONG walk to the nurse's office.

Stu said...

All of us have puke stories, don't we :)

The best one (I know...calling a puke incident "best" is an oxymoron...bear with me) I ever experienced went like this.

A principal who I did not particularly care for was observing in my first grade classroom. It was lunch time so I got the students lined up for lunch. The principal and I were watching...near the back of the line, as the students found their places.

One of my students came up to us and said, "Mr. B, I don't feel good." I could see that disaster was imminent.

I did three things simultaneously:
1) Most important: I took a step backwards
2) I pointed to the bathroom, and
3) I said, "Go to the bathroom."

The principal, who had never taught children under the age of 12 stood there watching - and probably grinning like a fool.

The child puked all over his shoes.

I don't know how I held it in, but I waited until after he had left to laugh!

Ian H. said...

As Stu says, we all have puke stories. I also teach high school, and have had students that couldn't figure out that they were going to be sick in time to leave the classroom (surprisingly, not the student who ate a squid we were dissecting in Bio - long story). I have small children of my own, and I realise that they don't always understand the signals their body is sending them, but by the time you hit 16, you should know better.

My favourite all-time puke at school story, though, is from when I was a student. I was in 4th grade (so about a billion years ago, according to my students), and it was hotdog day. Unfortunately, the school had run out of hot dogs, but some enterprising parent had decided that sausages were more or less the same thing, and so they were boiling the sausages like you would normally cook a hotdog. Unfortunately, sausages (unlike hotdogs) aren't pre-cooked, but no matter.

Needless to say, later that afternoon, we were sitting in class when one of the girls raised her hand and put her other hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, the teacher didn't notice right away, and by the time she did, the poor girl had puked through her fingers all over her desk. Yech!

institutrice said...

Forget paper - one year they cut 20% off the top of the budget which meant we weren't going to have toilet paper.

TOILET PAPER.

Thankfully they fixed it, but not after all the jokes about adding it to the supply list ("pencils, glue stick, roll of toilet paper") or asking if kids didn't bring in their own roll, did it mean they couldn't go?

Gotta love School Boards.

Who's Peeking?