|
|
|
� |
|
I'm not teaching eighth grade. They can't fool me. I'm actualy working at a super-ninja-soldier training camp! My students carry huge, bulging packs everywhere. Some of them must weigh sixty or seventy pounds. I can't lift most of them, but my skinny little kids swing them around easily. They don't actually need all those books; I haven't made them take their huge English lit book home for two weeks, yet they're all lugging it around. They can't fool me; they're training for the days when they'll have to carry all that ninja gear around. They spend all their time in the halls practicing martial arts, especially something that looks a lot like subway judo. I've seen some impressive kicks out there, too. When they are home, they practice on advanced tactical weapons simulators. It might look like Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, or Starfox, but I know what they're really up to. My teens are all very skilled at the art of misdirection, as well. What else could explain their ability to distract their parents from their abysmal grades? No one at home seems to notice the strings of E's, phone messages and e-mails from teachers, or letters from the school in the snail mail box. My eighth graders are ninjas. All of 'em. They can't fool me! |
 
|
Ninjas with Zits!