A while back I received a phone call from a teacher for no other reason than to tell me how well my child was doing. Odd. Normally when the caller I.D. pops up with school’s number, I cringe. I consider not answering. Let’s just say, my ringtone for the school is Daniel Powters, “Bad Day”, because I’m normally about to hear something like this:
“Your son stabbed someone in the hand with a pencil today…”“She’s been asked to not return to the kindergarten class for three days…”“He threw a chair at the teacher.”“There was blood involved.”“He’s going to need to stop grabbing himself inappropriately.”“He can’t come back to Head Start.” (yes, thrown out of Head Start)“I don’t know how you take him home every day…I couldn’t live with him.”“Well he’s not the worst child in school…”“She’s smuggling food from the cafeteria again.”“Your second grader told the principal, ‘It’s a free country and I don’t have to listen to you.’ Any suggestions?”“Can you come get her? Now?”“He slammed a kids head into the bus window…he’s no longer welcome on the bus.”“I can’t handle him anymore today.” “Your son mooned the science teacher.”“There’s a field trip coming up and he can’t go if you can’t chaperon.”“She’s about four years behind the rest of the class.”“He was asleep on his desk again today…”And my personal favorite…..
“He told the bus driver to F@#$ O## again today. Can you do something about that?”
Imagine the way my stomach lurches each time I see the caller I.D. Thanks Mr. Hickey…for making that one phone call that brightened my day!
