My schedule book said that Oct 17 is West High’s Homecoming, so all ‘feeder’ schools into it would be dismissed early. Devious me accepted a T A Sub job in a 5th grade classroom done at 1:15 pm. At an elementary school, I sign in at the office to work as either All Day or Half Day. Payday shows results.
Well, I’ll tell ya, we might have had a shortened day time-wise, but it sure did feel hours long enough.
All the students in my Social Studies tutoring group have aged a grade level since I had them last Spring, so I pretty much know their quirks.
One kid kept picking at a cuticle. It’s the same thing I did at that age in similar situations, so I tried to ignore it. Finally, when blood dripped on a paper, I handed him a tissue and told him to go to the nurse’s office for a cover. I have a ready supply in my school bag, but this kid needs a change of scenery all too often.
When he got back, it was time to move to another room for a Homecoming Spirit Day celebration, including something called a Pig-Out Plate. Quite a potluck spread of snacks laid out.
I had the assignment to keep the various bags and boxes from toppling off an overloaded table while the students filed past and loaded their plates.
I noticed the kid with the band-aid kept tugging on it.
Sigh. If I had the time, I would teach him what to do with a hook and yarn to keep those fingers busy.
As it was, I decided to put my own hand between his finger and his eyes and tell him to leave the cover on to do its work.
He looked upset and said that “A Band-aid doesn’t do any work!”
So I asked him why he had bothered to go to the nurse and get one if it doesn’t work? And then I asked “What does it do while it is wrapped around your finger?”
“It keeps the blood from dripping onto the paper.”
“Ah, yes, then it is doing good work. Leave it alone!”
The expression on his face said he was perplexed with word uses, but he left the band-aid on his finger.
He decided he didn’t want anything to eat, just some pop.
At the end of the hour, I snapped up a scotch chip cookie, wrapped it in a paper towel, and tucked it into my school bag. It was all I had time to do, what with supervising and trash pickup.
One kid had been with the Speech Therapist, so a teacher had filled a plate and put it into a zip-grip plastic bag for him to take home.
When owie finger kid protested about food on the bus, he was reminded that Dad comes to get this kid, and so he can take food with him.
More confusion noted.
People have different ways to get home.
The way our brains work is a wonder.
Some folks take longer to make connections than others.
Sitting on our back porch, I ate the cookie, and I found it to be wonderfully yummy. Usually homemade goodies at school functions are forbidden for health code reasons, but I’m so glad somebody decided to bend the rules today, and I got to taste it.
I’m sure ready for the weekend.
And no, I won’t be going to watch the parade or the football game.
Although any excuse to get out of school early is fine with me.
~~love and Huggs, Diane