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Snarl. I am a mean, bad, dangerous teacher lady. Monday morning, our school dedicated its moment of silence to the Columbia. You could have heard a pin drop in my room. Tears streamed down a few teenaged faces. Then one of my goober brains did the unthinkable: he loudly, ostentatiously boo-hoo-hooed into his hands, faking sorrow, then uncovered his face, guffawing loudly at his supposed cuteness. Bad. Idea. Mrs. Educait was on him like a duck on a junebug. What, exactly, did he think he was doing? How DARE he be so disrespectful and callous? Didn't he notice that people were genuinely upset by this tragedy? Then, to the class: was he funny? Class: NOOOOO! Was he disrespectful? YESSSSS! The Goober actually started to INTERRUPT me, to ARGUE with me; I told him to save it for the Principal's office. I filled out his referral form and dragged his sorry butt down to the office. Mr. H., our 8th grade AP, spoke with the Goober. Had him in tears. Goober claimed he was "coughing." Mr. H. got witnesses from my class who explained what Goober had really done. Goober has been suspended, and required to write an apology to the class, to be read aloud. Meanwhile, evil Mrs. Educait calls Goober's momma, who does not tolerate mess from her boy. Goober will be lucky if he ever sees daylight again. Momma's gonna put him on volunteer KP, peeling potatoes with her at her church's soup kitchen, every night for two weeks. It's not good to be a disrespectful butthead in MY classroom, dammit! |
 
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Goober Boy