The new, new kid:
I got a
new kid this week. The circumstances behind his arrival at my school are funny.
I am at
Bally's on the treadmill. I am also on my phone--talking loud, swearing,
laughing loudly, saying highly inappropriate things. Everyone around me is
glaring at me. Except for one lady, who moves from the bike to the treadmill
next to me. I continue my conversation, and end it with "Fuck You Lorrie, call
starts laughing uncontrollably, looks at me, and laughs louder. She then says,
"If that's how you talk to your friends, I'd hate to see how you talk to your
I am not
OK with this comment. She had been listening to my conversation, and is now
trying to talk to me. This sort of thing annoys me. I mutter "yeah" to her, pull
my hat down a little further, and flip open my magazine. This is no deterring
this woman. She says "Oh, I read Newsweek too. Isn't it a great magazine?" This
was quite possibly the dumbest thing anyone had ever said to me.
I look up
at her with my best "what the fuck?" look. This does not silence her. She holds
out her hand and says "Oh, I am Pam by the way." I automatically assume she is a
lesbian. Fifty thousand things I could say to her are going through my head. "Riti"
I say to her and held out my hand.
cracking me up," she says. "What do you do?"
like I am reading my magazine and mutter "I'm a teacher."
thats so great!! Wow, what a tough job you have."
her a half ass smile.
My son is in special Ed classes. He has muscular dystrophy and Autism."
comment, I exhausted myself trying to hold in my laughter.
continues, "I am looking for a really good school to place him in. What school
are you at?"
her, reluctantly, as she is obviously fucked in the head.
know where that is. Do you have a good program there?"
accept out of district transfers?"
is room, yes."
have any space right now?"
lost two, so yes, I do. It is nice with not as many kids."
just think you are fabulous! I am going to see about transferring my son to your
point I hit the stop button on the treadmill. I am waiting for an "I'm kidding"
to come out of her blabbering mouth. I continue to wait as she plays twenty
questions with me. Finally I have had it. I give her a card and tell her to call
the school to check on the specifics of a transfer.
later she calls me at work. "Guess Who...?" she said.
I got kids snorting pixie sticks over here, I don't have time for this shit.
calling to tell me her son will start in my class on Monday. I tell her how
happy I am to hear that, or some bullshit, and hang up.
completely forget that this new kid will be coming until Sunday. He shows up on
Monday, but I am not there. His mother calls my house repeatedly.
finally meet the kid. He is eight years old, blonde hair, blotchy red skin. He
should not be in my class. He has severe problems, far beyond anything my class
is equipped to deal with. He uses a walker, is pigeon toed, has a hearing aid,
drools uncontrollably, and the poor kid has
progeria. He is
is bad shape. He can do nothing by himself. He loses balance when transferring
from his walker to a chair. He falls over like ten times a day.
part is that his mother dresses him like he is Prince Harry. He comes to school
everyday in deck shoes, polo sweaters, khaki pants, suede jackets, etc. He is
like the retarded Armani poster child.
combination was the most alarming thing I had ever seen.
difficult to watch him eat. All those nice clothes get covered with shit. And he
eats tapioca pudding every single day. This disturbs me to no end.
He has NO
academic capabilities. None. He can barely talk. He can't even comprehend
holding up three fingers.
possibly the worst part is that every morning his mother walks him in and brings
me something. Tuesday it was a latte and a muffin. Wednesday she brought me
stationary. Thursday a desk calendar. But Friday is the kicker, she shows up
with A FUCKING TURTLE. MY GOD WOMAN, I CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE.
As for a
husband? He committed suicide six years ago.
help this kid. He needs physical therapy, not school. And he is exposed to the
behavior problem kids that I have. He doesn't understand their funniness, but
still, he doesn't need to be around them.
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