Tards go to play, all hell breaks loose:
weeks ago I received an invitation from the
local Children's Theater inviting my class and me to a performance of Hansel and
taking tards out in public, there is almost nothing worse than a play. Whenever
there is a calm moment in my class, I say this: "If I wanted to be busy I'd go see a play." But the kids were excited, so I decided to go ahead and
get my yearly play punishment out of the way.
home permission slips two weeks prior to the play date. [FYI: Normal classroom
teachers send home permission slips ONE week prior. Plus I realize that
acquiring the entire $5.50 to cover the cost of the trip may require some
serious re-budgeting.] The day prior to the play I only have 3 slips turned
good little Riti Sped, I call the homes of the 10+ kids that had not turned
theirs in. Amongst the litany of unbelievable conversations I have with whoever
answers on the other line, my favorite is this:
answering machine that says "You have reached the Mercer family. We are
unable to come to the phone at this time because Lola is shopping, Mark is
watching football, Antoni is nowhere to be found and Tom is picking his
is a true, unabridged greeting on the voicemail of one of my tard families.
Normally I would have thought this was lame, but that my tard Tom does
constantly pick his nose, so this is funny.
all but 2 of my tards get their permission slips on the morning of the trip. The
other two will have to spend the day in the preschool tard class. Nice.
ride there was actually quite calm. I think that adjusting to the size of a
regular school bus was a bit much for them. I can only imagine the thought
processing in their little heads, something like, "Wow. A long bus and
restraint equipment--what is this strange new world??"
arrives at the auditorium, and there are tons of kids all over the place. At
least a couple thousand. If one of my tards gets loose, the shit will hit
the fan. This worries me, so I assign each tard a buddy to hold hands with and
to be "in charge of." This proves to be a good idea, as they argue
with each other over who is actually in charge, squeeze the crap out of each
others hands, and kick at each other.
part are the other kids. Imagine being a normal kid, say sixth grade or so, and
seeing a line-up of tards holding hands, stomping through the
crowds. The kids
were snickering, joking, I heard "look at that" plenty of times. Tons
of kids are staring, but my tards are LOVING IT!! They are waving and smiling,
still holding hands, basking in the attention.
group is disabled, I am able to reap the rewards of "special needs check
in." We are all escorted in, and given the front row of seats to the
left of the stage, next to the crying room, coincidentally.
the ruckus of the crowds coming in, the noise, etc. causes Lindsay to cry. She
wants to sit on my lap. I let her. Soon after this, she has to go to the
bathroom, and one of my aides takes her. Things seem to be going smoothly, so I
pull out The Tucker Max Saga Continues...E-mail #20
from my purse and begin to
about one minute into it, laughing hysterically, when I realize that there are a bunch of kids behind
me, peering over my shoulder. I put the papers back in the purse, and hear one
kid tell another one that the paper I had said "vagina." Immediately
they begin to laugh. I chuckle to myself, as it is kind of funny.
waiting for the production to begin, nothing that great happens, although Tyler
does say "Let's get this bitch on the road."
preparation for the story of Hansel and Gretel, I read the story to the kids
nine times prior to the play. NINE TIMES. We also talked about how it is only a
story, and that witches who eat kids are not real, parents don't really lose
their kids in the woods, etc.
confident that nine times had been enough, and that the kids will understand the
play. I was wrong. The witch scares all of the little kids.
Brian are crying and screaming. Now I realize the strategic seating arrangement.
I take them both to the crying room. But they can still hear the play through
speakers in the crying room. So we sing songs and look away from the stage.
fight over who will sit on my lap. Then, and this fucking kills me, they want to
hear the story if Hansel and Gretel. I had not of course brought the book with
me. But I did have Email #20. I quickly stop this line of thought.
in the crying room for the entire duration of the play. The rest of the tards
did such a good job of watching and tying in the ideas from the book to the
play. I was so proud of them!! I almost cried on the bus when they told me how
much they loved it.
back to school, and, aside from Tyler repeatedly telling everyone that he
"Would of schooled that witch bitch," all goes well. I give them all
granola dipp bars. They fight over who gets rocky road and who gets peanut
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