After my, quite, heated teacher post, I thought I would lighten it up with some awesome teacher humor. These legit had me LOL’ing. If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.
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Check out my humor board on Pinterest. When I am having a craptastic day, I will revisit how funny I am on Pinterest (har har).
Funniest Pinterest Board In All Thee Land
Tag: Teaching
When You Know You Need a Vacation
When you get a new student, it behooves any good teacher to make a great first impression. I made sure we got all of our dedicated brain breaks throughout the day-“Hey, this is a really fun classroom-we get to do a YMCA kids Just Dance video between math and reading?!”. I made sure to emphasize the positive reward system and incentives-“If I make good decisions, I get to eat lunch with the teacher? Baller status!” I made sure my students really showed what they have been learning about ancient Rome-“Wow! They know so much about an ancient civilization. I want to be like these kids!”
After that, it all went downhill. Clark Griswold-sledding-like-a-fool-downhill-like.
Every day, I do a read-aloud about our social studies topic. In the middle of reading about Julius Caesar’s ultimate demise, someone farted.
I know, I know. What the hell is it with farts? I know.
I have always been excellent at ignoring fluffs. If you don’t, you lose instruction time, there is the potential for embarrassing the culprit, and it is just not good role model behavior. This year, however, farts have become exponentially funnier. I don’t know why.
But, I am a freaking human, alright?
I could feel it building inside. I tried to ignore it. I tried to focus on Brutus killing Caesar, “Et tu, Brute” and all that.
There wasn’t a single laugh or even any acknowledgement that it had happened.
But…it went “Bloop”.
Bloop
I couldn’t hold it in. I started laughing. I didn’t dare look at anyone. Maybe it would stop. I kept my face behind the book.
Reading…long pause…expectant re-positioning. Silent laughing. More reading. Longer pause. Not-so-silent laughing.
Fuck. I cannot believe this is happening to me. AGAIN.
OK. STOP.
I can’t.
Because, it went “bloop”.
Bloop.
At this point, I am too far gone. You know when you are not supposed to laugh? During funerals? When someone is telling you something sad? When you are getting bad news of some sort? But, someone told you a joke before the bad news and you are still laughing, or the person talking to you has a crusty booger and you just can’t even?
It was like that. I knew I shouldn’t laugh and so, that is precisely when I can’t control laughing.
My best friend in high school will relate, because we were the most hated students in Ms. Gibb’s class. We had laughing fits, on a daily basis, over stupid shit, like Ms. Gibb’s flock of seagulls hair. Once we started, we could.not.stop.
It was like that as my poor students sat, wide-eyed, watching their demented teacher lose her shit.
A few brave souls attempted apprehensive, “hehe’s”.
One student said, monotone, teacherly, “Are you OK, Ms. P?”
No. I was not OK.
Eventually, I did collect myself and we carried on, but not until we discussed why I was laughing. I was not laughing at the person who farted. We went over that it is a natural bodily function that is funny. Right?
The same student who asked if I was done losing my shit said, “Ms. P, that wasn’t even a fart, that was my shoe…”
It.wasn’t.even.a.fart.
What an excellent first impression for my new student. Teacher of the year right here.
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Friday Funnies
This is going to be a very half-assed post. I’ve been so busy this past week that I haven’t had a moment to sit down and write a proper post. Just to reassure everyone that I’m still alive and well (I know you’ve all been quite concerned *hehe*), I thought I would share some things that have made me laugh lately. Enjoy, and have a fantabulous Friday.
How did someone find my personal collection of shame pictures?! Seriously though, this is real life. I found this on Facebook, but I’ve seen it lurking around Pinterest for awhile. It’s a classic.
Hide yo’ kids! Hide yo’ wife-this ain’t for virgin eyes. This is my brother attempting yoga. Lord Jesus, and all that is holy! I had no idea there was something scarier than moi doing stretches!
These next few pictures are of notes left by one of my students. The absolute funniest thing regarding these adorably hilarious notes is that this child is painfully shy. She’s that kid who is very smart, reserved, and speaks so quietly, you only hear half of what she says, if that. Who knew she had such spunk?! She better be a brain surgeon, or be a writer for SNL. Something amazing is in store for this darling.
This last one is from a different student, but had to be included, because, apparently, I’m a man.
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10 Truths Learned After Today
1. It is possible to eat a yogurt cup, a Cranberry Bliss Bar from Starbucks, a bagel with cream cheese, a couple pieces of fruit, and a mini cinnamon roll before 9:00 AM.
2. After a hearty, diverse breakfast, it is possible to be ravenously hungry an hour later.
3. When you forget to shave your legs, for a month, the sharp-as-tack hair will poke through your leggings. And it will be noticeable.
4. Subsequently, said overgrown leg hair will stick out the bottom of your leggings. And, your students will give you worried/questioning/confused looks all day. Do they think I’m a man now??
5. 3rd graders are very literal. If you ask them if they can turn their day around after some poor decisions, and you ask again, with emphasis, “Can you turn around?”, they will literally turn around. The point was lost.
6. When you decide to be healthy, for once, and eat a salad for lunch, you will take so long to eat it, you forget to check your teeth. As thanks, there will be a piece of lettuce between every.single.tooth.
7. Your boss will come in after lunch. Because you have to be extra smiley to your principal, they will observe your tooth adornments, but you won’t discover that until you go to the bathroom. 2 hours later.
8. When you play a KIDS Just Dance video on YouTube, for a brain break, the ad that plays before the video will be about Vagisil.
9. 8-year-olds struggle with explaining their thinking in writing, forget something you said two seconds ago, and don’t remember you’ve been learning about multiplication for a month, but they can draw a very accurate portrait of you. Complete with chin hairs and zits in precisely the right location on your face.
10. Salad can and will give you noxious gas.
I didn’t ask, I DIDN’T ASK.
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He's Made of Ceramic, Guys
My students have really taken to our class “pet”, Messy. So much so, that I’m wondering now if they even know he’s not a real dog. I sincerely hope they aren’t waiting for him to finally “wake” up and start kissing their faces.
One of my top achieving students came up to me, quietly, and asked, “Ms. P., does Messy just sleep all day?”
I didn’t want to kill the magic so, I said, “Maybe he is the first ever nocturnal Bull Dog? No, not really. Also, puppies are like babies, they need a lot of sleep.” She has a baby sister, so she seemed satisfied with the answer.
Then, then, I overheard one of my students lament to another student, “Messy is way lazier than my dog at home. I wonder when he will want to play?”
WHAT THE?
One more…one of the teacher’s students next door came up to her yesterday, and said, “Ms. S., did you know Ms. P has a dog in her room?! Do you think I should go remind her to feed it?”
Someone please tell me my students know that an immobile-stuck-in-the-same-position-CERAMIC dog is fake.
Please tell me they are just consciously participating in the make believe that innocent children’s lives revolve around, because if I have to have the tough conversation that Messy is not alive, it will be the first of its kind.
They absolutely adore him. They race each other to get to the carpet first, so they can sit by him. They sit with him in their laps, happily stroking his “fur”. They asked me what he was going to be for Halloween.
I am confident that my students are playing make believe. This makes me so happy, because in a world where children grow up too fast, where 1st graders are dropping the “F” bomb, and where 8 year-olds have cellphones, Messy makes me believe there is hope. For now, my students are still children, with innocent imaginations, and that makes me so happy.
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This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
I’ve had my new-to-me car for less than a month and it’s already been been violated in a most horrific way.
The other morning, after a stress-filled drive to school, whereby I agonized over where best to park, I sat trying to calm my nerves. Actually every morning that I get to school, I just sit for awhile, pondering life (ie: checking all of my social media, promising myself I’ll get out after just one more song, and savoring my coffee-my life blood).
I feel, before I go on, I should explain why I spent my entire drive agonizing over where to park. Simply put, I work in da hood. It’s not all bad. Just like nice neighborhoods aren’t all good. However, I’ve heard one too many stories about teacher’s cars being keyed, shootings, and our school has already been vandalized and broken into-numerous times.
I love my school, my students, and our community, but it’s not exactly Mayberry. Not even close.
Well, there I sat, watching a video on how to make hash brown egg cups on Facebook, and my car starts shaking. Like serious, “don’t come a’knocking shaking”. It’s not every day that you get your own personal earthquake or theme park ride, so it took a minute to get my bearings. When I realize my new car, with me in it, isn’t about to be swallowed by a sink hole, I look into my rearview mirror to see a head-barely visible over my back end.
I get out and see some kid shaking my car. He’s literally bumping up against it like a remote control car stuck in a corner. I’m so pissed, all I say is, “GET OUTTA HERE” *insert Brooklyn accent*. This hoodlum didn’t realize the car was inhabited, so I’m sure he was shitting his pants as he ran out of sight.
After telling this story to numerous people-fellow colleagues, my boyfriend, my family-they all had the same questions for me, “Why didn’t you question him, demand his name, drag him to the office?”
Let me just list the reasons why:
- It was 7:00 AM-our office was empty
- He was a middle school kid-not under my/our particular authority
- I am scared of retaliation
This misguided young man was likely trying to make my car alarm go off, to what end-it could be various reasons. Maybe he just thought it would be fun. Maybe he looks for cars that aren’t alarmed for someone who steals them. Maybe he simply has no regard or respect for others and their belongings. Actually, that last hypothesis would apply to all possible reasons he felt the need to molest my car.
I would be laughing about this (the look on his face was pretty awesome), but I’m actually fearful that my new car will be damaged while parked at my place of employment. That’s a pretty shitty feeling.
In fact, everyday I notice possible new scratches and dings. I can’t blame them all on immoral creeps, as its definitely possible they were there before I bought the car. I didn’t inspect every inch of it with a magnifying glass, but I did look for noticeable imperfections. I’m 99% sure this was not present upon buying my car
We live in a world where so few people have respect for others. It’s my fear that good, moral, thoughtful people will soon be extinct.
Kids can be shits, I get it. I once stuck a thumbtack in my preschool teacher’s bum, simply because it was right in my face as she bent over, I was rolling a tack between my thumb and pointer finger, and I was a scientist-I wanted to know what would happen (BIG trouble, is what happened).
While I’ve been guilty of my fair share of wrong-doing, I can confidently say I’ve never had the urge to damage someone else’s property. Never. Not once.
Instead of be pissed/upset/stressed about this disgusting lack of regard for MY property, I am going to simply regard my car as a useful mode of transportation that gets me from point A to point B. Instead of daydreaming about how pretty she is, I’ll instead remember what is really important in life: my family, my friends, my health, and my strong morals and values. Also, a car is simply a material object that I am lucky to have. Some people don’t even own shoes. First world problems, and all that.
While I suffer the results of lack of guidance and respect, I will continue to guide and teach respect to my students, because what else can I do? I am honored to be in the position where I have the possibility to change someone’s life for the better, every single day. Key my car, go for it. I’ll just be over here continuing to teach your children to do better, be better. Win.
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OH MY
We all know kids say the darnedest things. I mean, they made a show simply on the premise that some kid was guaranteed to say something genius. You also know kids say some pretty ridiculous things if you have a kid, have internet access, or you live on this planet.
Not only do kids say some hilarious shit, they also write and draw some interesting things. The collection I have of laugh-out-loud worthy masterpieces is immense.
What makes kids so funny is their blatant honesty about their observations, how seriously they take serious topics, and their innocence. It isn’t funny if a grown man draws a pair of DDD’s on a picture of their mom, but when a kid does it, they are just being accurate (or not…in that case, I can’t help you). Their honesty and innocence makes their art HILARIOUS. Hilarious.
Let me just put this here for you:
You are free to come to your own conclusions about what you think this child drew. What I saw, what made me spew my mouthful of coffee all over my desk was, well, a TALLYWHACKER and some DINGLEBERRIES. I couldn’t even.
These are apples on pants.
This child obviously thought apples on pants was a ridiculous notion and changed ‘pants’ to ‘plants’. That is a MUCH safer scenario.
If you don’t find humor in these things, if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry in your vodka, and no one wants that.
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Class Pet
Since my last post was a rant, I thought I would start my (and your) Monday off on a positive note. I’ve been dying to share our class “pet” with all of my readers.
So, before I get into how our class “pet” came to be, I have to share how comical my mother is. She knows (along with anyone else who knows me) that I’ve been wanting a dog of my own. At the ripe-old-age of 32, I finally feel grown up enough to take care of another living being. Only problem? Our landlord is strictly against pets. Moving is expensive, so the dream continues.
Well, on to my mom…she bought me a ceramic bull dog and said he could be my makeshift pet. She even said I could name him, buy him a bed, the whole shamoly. HAR HAR.
So, I thought it would be a great idea to take him to my classroom to serve as a class pet. I was apprehensive as you never know how 3rd graders will react. One day they’re innocent little darlings who (gratefully) don’t think it’s gross to learn that mammals nurse their babies (boobs, GROSS). Yet, the next day they are too cool for school and you catch them dropping the F Bomb. It’s a crapshoot.
Well, they love him. They named him Messy and they fight over who gets to sit by him.
My mom comes in to volunteer and they were so excited to show her their new pet. My mom, who was humoring them, said, “Well, I bet he’s a really good boy, since he just sleeps all the time”.
One boy responds, “He’s just pretending, Grandma Judy!”
They are still sweet babies. Praise the Lord!
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Children are Amusing
I thought I would get in a quick blog post, and I knew I had some pretty good material courtesy of my hilarious 3rd graders. The beauty of children is that they are funny, without having to try to be funny. They are at their most amusing when they are not even trying to be funny or cute, usually when they are being innocently, adorably, dead serious. These are actual lines said/written by very serious 3rd graders who mean business:
Teacher, my hair smells like mustard.
I am late because I had to poop.
It wasn’t me, I take farts outside.
I can’t move right now, I am like a turtle on it’s back.
Maybe he wrote different perspectives because the narrator wanted to, so the author said ‘yes’?
God is #1, you are #2.
You will achieve all your dreams and eat s’mores.
Just a few Wednesday funnies for my readers. Enjoy.
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Piece of Sh*t Car a la Adam Sandler
Friends, my car is dying an ugly, ugly death. We had been given a year, but the diagnosis is now, much worse. The sickness running through the fluids and electrical system has recently sped up, and I am now making funeral arrangements. I’m devastated, but not surprised. When you have no emergency break, and chunks of seat break off, daily, you know your car’s days are numbered.
Everyday, driving to and from work is pushing it. I also have to drive sans air conditioning, and like an 80-year-old with nowhere to go. It’s awful.
It’s not even like I’m that close to my car. It has no quirky name, and no emotional connection to me, whatsoever. I mean, when your car needs major repairs just to pass smog each year, it isn’t exactly considered a prized possession.
No, I’m dreading making car payments. At the ripe-old-age of 32, I’ve never been tied down by car payments. My piece of poo on wheels only cost me $5,000 and it’s been paid off since 2006. I am dreading having to make a substantial payment on a car every month. I’m a teacher, not a billionaire.
With that, because I’ll be a slave to the bank or car dealership for 48 months or longer, I want to be able to have a damn nice ride. I’m not even picky, either. ‘Damn nice’ in my world means having a “clicker” and power windows. But, while I’m not exactly “picky” due only to being poor, I’m super particular, at the same time. It’s a Jetta, or the highway.
Since I’ll likely be driving the most expensive thing I’ll ever possess soon, I know I’ll also be an anxious mess. I like to keep my nice things nice, and we know how people are assholes. I’ll be paranoid about it getting dinged, scratched, or hit. The anxiety is already creeping in. UGH. I think I have an ulcer.
When you are super OCD, decisions like this are not fun, like most people would treat them. No, all I’m thinking about is how long I’ll have to give up morning Starbucks runs or buying beef because I’ll be paying on a car. I’m dreading the car hunt, because shopping around for something you really can’t afford really kinda sucks. Also, my car has already been keyed by some asshole, and I haven’t even seen it yet.
Wish me luck on my search. Pray I hit the lotto. Something. Anything.
My friend and I would blast this song as we “dragged main”, in my first piece of shit car, an ’86 Mazda 626 with maroon interior and purple tinted windows. We thought we were so hilarious.