Yesterday after school was filled with administrative assignments, especially for the older kids. Middle and high schoolers get syllabi from each class and they have to be reviewed, filled out and signed so that they can be returned to the teacher the next day. They actually count this as an assignment. Like, for a grade. I’m not kidding. No wonder American kids are considered stupid on the world stage. Even the Canadian kids are working on long division and memorizing the atomic weight of Xenon, while our kids are getting “Super Fantastic!” stickers when they can remember to carry a piece of paper to and from school. Maybe we can try to set the bar a wee bit higher. I’m just saying…
By the time I was done writing down my e-mail address (which the schools already have in their systems, by the by, because I already get many, many e-mails from them every day) no less than 17 times, my hand was cramping. I’m sure my handwriting suffered, thus lessening the possibility that any e-mails intended for me from one of these teachers will eventually make it to my inbox. Efficient, right? Actually, some of the teachers were smart and gave the assignment that the parent/ guardian had to send them a single e-mail with your kid’s name and class period in the subject line, thus eliminating any handwriting confusion. Those teachers must have gone to school somewhere other than America, eh?
So I’ve been working on annoying paperwork for what seems like an endless amount of time and I started to get bored. And antsy. And ornery. Then Kid B gives me another “e-mail the teacher” assignment, but this time the teacher asks that I please include a little note about my kid. This was my submission:
To: Kid B’s math teacher
From: Stacy Swiger
Subject: Kid B, 8th period Kid B didn't get out of her pajamas for almost three months. Then today she put on a dress and makeup and earrings. Honestly, I'm not sure what else to tell you about her, except she is a great kid. She plays soccer on a travel team. She is very smart but not a huge fan of school. She gets good grades and seems to be a leader. Her dad and I constantly tell her to use her powers for good and not for evil. I hope you have a great year. Thanks for teaching my kid math. I sure hope you know what you are doing.
I almost directed her to the “Cast of Characters” section of this blog after that, but I thought that’d be weird. Then I started laughing maniacally about crazy people (specifically, me) drawing lines in the sand to define what is and what is not over the top. Then I sang Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative” the whole time I was making dinner.
Wish me luck for tomorrow…