Friday, August 28, 2009

Rock On, Mr. FoN

Hi! Where have I been? I’ve been waiting for summer. I’ve been all dressed up, sitting on my doorstep, clutching my purse and waiting for that stupid fucker to show up and make me hot. He never showed. Some time ago I finally gave up and reached the conclusion that I’ve been stood up. After that sad realization I retreated to my bedroom. Hugging my teddy bear while surrounded by balls of snotty kleenex I’ve been writing I LOVE SUMMER and MRS. FoN SUMMER all over my stuff. What an asshole.

In a few short weeks, I’m going to start bitching about how cold I am again. Fair warning, internet.

Sigh.

What else is new?

The Hubby started his teaching job yesterday. He is a teacher. Mr. FoN. That makes me Mrs. FoN, which is even funnier. He’s been in school for the last six years completing his Bachelor of Education degree. I know it’s a four year degree, but he went part-time for the first four years so that’s why it took him six years to finish. He’s not, you know…just dumb. Anyway, it was his first day as a teacher yesterday, and he is now in charge of a room full of 7 and 8 year-olds all day.

I really have to give a shout out to all the teachers in the world, because short of having to scrape road kill off the highway all day or letting fat, sweaty businessmen stuff money down my pants, teaching would be pretty much last on my list of career choices.

Don’t get me wrong, I like kids. Well, I like most kids. Okay, I really only like my own kids and my friend’s kids. I like the odd stranger kid, but some of them really kind of suck. If I was a teacher and had a shitty kid in my class I would not be able to hide the fact that I thought he was shitty. Getting picked on by the teacher is probably not that cool. I’d feel bad being openly bitchy to some kid, even if they were shitty. Plus, I have a lot of residual scarring from my elementary school days when I was tortured mercilessly by Rob Morrese. I can’t actually remember how to spell his name right now, but just so you know it’s pronounced More-eese. I’m going to write a whole post someday about Rob Morrese, and in preparation I’m going to find my elementary school class picture to figure out how to spell his name correctly so when that narcissistic fucker googles himself he can read all about what an asshole he is. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, teaching.

Whenever I walk into an elementary school I feel like I have been immediately thrust into the Lord of the Flies. All that yelling and bell ringing and bad artwork hanging everywhere is offensive to my senses. And what is with the smell? Why do elementary schools need to smell like that? Some type of Franken mixture of stale bologna, glue, cleaning supplies and urine. How could anyone want to work in that environment all day everyday? And enjoy it? And not even get paid that well to do it? No thanks.

One day last year in a weak moment I volunteered to be the parent helper in my son’s class for some project they were doing. I was there for two hours, and when it was over I couldn’t leave fast enough. I raced back to work and immediately started making out with my desk. Full tongue and everything. It was awesome.

So, here is a big shout out to all you teachers in the world. Thank you for taking the bullet for the rest of us. I won’t even begrudge you the 2 months off you get in the summer. And the 2 weeks at Christmas. And the other 10 days around Easter.

Hmmmmmm.

11 comments:

Jenni said...

Congrats to Mr. FoN. I'm with you - that is a shit job and I'm glad someone is happy to do it.

Unknown said...

OMG You're alive. I was starting to wonder why I was hanging onto following you. I knew you would reappear (eventually...).

I'm with you on teaching - even though I taught preschool, the memories give me the shakes.

Keely said...

Yay, you're alive!

Wait - I already knew that. Yay, you're blogging again!

Tricia McWhorter said...

I taught "elementary principles of painting" for two hours a week to a group of kids aged 6-12. This was at a private art studio. I discovered I had to take two valium each week before I stepped into that class. Hats off to your hubby. I loved your make-out session with your desk!

Captain Dumbass said...

There's very little seperating them from wild animals.

robin said...

Maybe I can help you get a jump on that post (I am all for outing the assholes of the past): Morrissey? Like the brooding singer?
Does that look right?
Welcome back! :)

Sherendipity said...

I used to feel bad because I hated being around my kids' grade school building. It gets easier when they go to high school and no longer want you around.

Raven said...

I'm so there with you on the kid thing. I love my own kids, my nephews and my friend's kids, but can't stand most other children. I hate going to school things for my kids cuz there's all these, well, kids everywhere!

Have a great day and Congrats to Mr. FoN!

Raven

said...

I'm come from a family with a LOT of teachers, and I am so appreciative of your comments...you GO Mr. and Mrs. FoN!!

Frogs in my formula said...

It does feel like Lord of the Flies, doesn't it? Kids are animals. They scare me and I have no patience for attitudes or disrespect. I could never teach. EVER.

Sometimes I make out with my desk, too. But it's more of a dry humping fest.

Stacy Uncorked said...

Congrats to Mr. FoN! Hopefully he won't bring that smell home with him and turn you off... ;)

So I'm guessing all the paperwork I'm doing right now to become a volunteer at Princess Nagger's school is going to bite me in the butt, eh? :)