I was in a room outside the bathrooms that separated our classroom from the next in order to read a quiet story to my lil’ Down’s syndrome charge and review his sight words when a person started talking over the intercom.
He quickly jumped behind me and then pulled me down beside him on the mat.
“Ghost!” he mouthed into my ear, barely audible, and pulled me closer. If that ghost was going to be combative, by golly, she would have trouble flying away with both of us.
“It’s not a ghost, it’s like a class telephone”, I attempted to explain.
He glared at me and hissed “GHOST!” Luckily he doesn’t know the word “dumbass”, or I’m sure that would have been used as well. It was certainly implied.
“It isn’t a bad ghost, it’s a very nice lady ghost that lives in our classroom”, I explained.
“Oh! Okay!” And that was the end of that. We went back to our Dr. Seuss book and finished our sight words.
I wonder if all the time that he has been in school, he has been worried about ghosts in the classroom? It was certainly a logical choice to make regarding disembodied voices that seem to be originating from the ceiling.