dear lord, deliver me from . . .

its the end of the first week and mah feet are killing me!.

year 7 - ah so cute and tiny and sweet. except for that kid. you know who i'm talking about. the one who had 50 pixie sticks and a coke for breakfast.

this week i was teaching them geography and history so i was seeing them ALOT. and i tell you, it was a bit toooooo much. from the first day, i had no idea who he was, didnt know any names and i already knew him.

in the back of my mind i wondered if i am indeed that unlucky and apparently i am. i thought he was younger. i thought that i would be spared but i realize that it was only wishful thinking on my part.

for the past two years i taught the older brother and the older sister and i gotta tell you, the genes in the family dont spread to far. so he didnt have the pixie sticks and coke for breakfast, thats all encoded in his DNA and there is no way i can get away from it. the only silver lining i can think of is that the youngest kid is only 3 so i will definitely be gone before he enters secondary school.

i like to think that i help create a sense of familial closeness. for the rest of their lives they can reminisce about me and how i never let them talk and sat them away from all their friends, and other teacher things that serve to make kids miserable. the funny thing is that they are all pretty bright.

okay that was probably me in class but hey there werent more of me standing in line to make my teachers lives miserable