Homework

by Glen L. Bledsoe 

As students in school we all had days when we weren't able to attend class. Might be that you had a contagious disease or you broke some important bones needed to support your body as you were shoved down the hall to class. Or it could be your parents were taking you out of school because they made you go on vacation (Brit: holiday). Not guilty, right? You, of course, had no control over that! Or it might be something supremely vital to your mental well being like you just got a new puppy. We all know what's more important, don't we? You can solve a page of math story-problems any time, but your first day with a new puppy only happens once in a lifetime.

But the pits is that when you got back to school there was Miss Schultz with that zombie glare in her eye handing you a pile of books and math homework to last you several lifetimes. Or worse still your mother collected it before you went on vacation and you were expected to work at least 20 minutes each day on it while you were away interrupting your designated, mandatory vacation time. Of course, that never worked out because your parents understood that if you felt like it you could dump the whole pile into the motel swimming pool by "accident."

 

The First Day Can Be Scary

 by Glen L. Bledsoe 

The first day of kindergarten can be difficult for young children. They may find the classroom strange, the other children new and the whole situation kind of frightening. Some may suffer from separation anxiety when their mothers wave goodbye and leave the room. But, of course, their new teacher is there to make that first day transition easier. It takes a special kind of person to pull a group of young children into a self-managing class of boys and girls who can walk down the hall quietly in a single line. Every child has fond memories of their kindergarten teacher.

Parent-Teacher Conference with Mrs. Talbot

 By Glen L. Bledsoe 

Mr. Creighton sat down at a table across from a tired looking woman. He hated home visits, but this is what the school board now required of teachers, so he had no choice. She looked as if she were dressed in a Halloween fortune teller costume, even though it was early September and school had just started.

"Mrs. Talbot, I'm sorry to have to have to bring up this so early in the year, but I would like to talk to you about your son Larry."

"Larry, my son," she said with a mournful tone.

"Yes, Larry seems to be having trouble adjusting to school."

"Is he not doing his homework? If he refusing to do his math I will beat him until he can't sit down. I was never good at math in school, but he can do better."

Mr. Creighton held out a hand in protest. "No, it's not homework.

We usually don't give homework in first grade the first week of school."

"Is he wolfing down his lunch? I don't understand."

"No it's not that. If I had to put it in one sentence I'd have to say he doesn't play well with others."

Mrs. Talbot said, "In this he is just like his father. He needs to be engaged in sports. Do you have wrestling program?"

"I'm afraid we don't for first grade students. I'm not sure sports is the answer. Larry is... how shall I put it? Running around biting and scratching his fellow students."

Mrs. Talbot smiled. "Why didn't you say so? I will keep him home at the next full moon and that should solve the problem. Can you give me his homework to complete during this period of time? We may also wish to go on vacation."

"Gladly, Mrs. Talbot. Gladly."

Hiding the Children

 By Glen L. Bledsoe 

The mother of my new student asked to speak to me in the hallway. She showed me a photograph of a man who could have been the winner of a Charlie Manson look-alike contest. She said, "If you ever see this man around the school immediately call the police. He is my children's father and he has sworn to sacrifice them to Satan."

My jaw fell open. Not the usual greetings exchanged between a parent and a teacher on a new student's first day.

She continued, "We've been moving from campground to campground, town to town trying to escape him for two years."

I looked back at the students through the door to my classroom. "I will see that your son is safe," I said, "and l'll talk to your daughter's teacher. We'll have a plan to hide them if necessary."

We did make a plan, but it was never implemented because within six weeks they had moved on. I have no idea whether they are still on the run or not.

True story, I'm sorry to say.