My Ass is Draggin’!

I met SwampMan at our local Mexican restaurant this afternoon after work. “How was your day?” he inquired.

“Mmmmmmmmmmph.”

“What does that mean? Same as usual?”

“Mmmmmhmmmmmmm.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“MmmmmMmmmmmmmm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin.”

After I got some sugar in my system from the sweet tea, I perked up enough to be able to order food. My food for the day had consisted of a yogurt for breakfast, cottage cheese for lunch (the only thing on the lunch menu that didn’t include wheat), and I was probably suffering from low blood sugar.

“I dunno what’s wrong with me. I feel exhausted. I think it is because I have people crowding around me for 8 hours, and I just need to destress.” Plus, of course, I’ve used up lots of words like “Don’t! Stop! You’re going to faceplant right on the hard floor if you keep doing that, and you’re going to look real bad with no teeth!” and “Yes, I realize that you have a lot of books about Hwaii at home that I have never read, but I can assure you that if you’re writing an essay about the exotic native animals of Hawaii, you cannot include alligators. Trust me on this.”

SwampMan conversationally informed me that a new teacher had quit at his school today.

“Uh, let me guess about the cause. Could it be because of the students?”

“I don’t know all the particulars, but I believe that that would be an accurate assessment.”

“Mmmmmmmph.”

We discussed one of the violence-prone boys that I was endeavoring to keep the other children safe from. “Kid has an aggressive lovelorn girl pursuing him, and I was giving him some advice on fending off unwanted affection.”

“What do you mean, aggressive lovelorn girl?”

I told him. “Good grief! And she’s what, 12 or 13?”

“Unh hunh.”

“So, what was your advice?”

“No punching, hitting, kicking, and/or threatening to kill, maim, or assault her in any way.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. I’m worried that I didn’t mention strangling or stabbing.” I’m absolutely serious. Some kids for whatever reason have no internal compass of right or wrong and need to rely on people to guide them toward the correct course or path. Brain damage, birth defect, genetic problem…I don’t know why. It just is. The downside to relying on somebody outside themselves for their moral compass is that they will never have somebody by their side 24/7 telling them right from wrong.

We discussed briefly more problems I was having. “I swear to Gawd that in one class this morning, I was thinking to myself that I could be in a workshop with power tools working out new designs for planters!” I told him. SwampMan did NOT want to hear about that!

I’ve been fighting off a cold/flu all week long. Many kids have missed multiple days of school with it. I clutch my vitamin bottle with the same sort of religious fervor an earlier incarnation of me would have lavished upon an amulet to keep the evil Cold and Flu God at bay. It’ll probably have about the same results, too. I wonder if there’s an amulet for keeping sick middle schoolers away. Sigh. It probably wouldn’t work, either. Oh, yeah, I’ve been waaaaaaaay exposed. “Miz Swampie, I feel really hot!” “Uh, maybe you should take your jacket off….” “Urp. Bleeeeck. Hoooooork. Gag. Spit.” I move aside and surreptitiously wipe pretty much all my exposed skin with hand sanitizer, contemplating what germs have been propelled from the intenstinal tract to the floor and air.

“Hey, how are our popcorn stocks for the Biden/Ryan debates?” SwampMan asked, deftly changing the subject in a sneaky “Look, squirrel!” fashion in case I was still thinking about things like resignations and power tools. “How are our popcorn stocks?”

“Oh, snap. We used up all the popcorn during the Romney/Obama debate. Remind me tomorrow to get more!”

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4 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    kcduffy said,

    I’ll be watching the debate by Twitter-feed. MUCH funnier that way, tho I do love Paul Ryan!

  2. 2

    swampie said,

    Yeah, I’ll be keeping an eye on Twitter, I’ll also be switching back and forth between GCP, Paco, Vodkapundit, Instapundit, Belmont Club, and Rachel Lucas’ site.


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