Tag Archives: help

She’s Got Skills

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Beauty in the day: rest assured, your kids are under the tutelage of professionals, folks. I know a teacher who has the same affinity for arachnids that I do (that would be a “0” on a scale from 1 to 10). I received a text from her today, this First Day of Summer School, that read, “Trying to keep my cool…..”, accompanied by the picture below.
I’ll bet the kids didn’t even know it was there. THAT’S called PROFESSIONALISM.
COMMITMENT.
DEDICATION.
REFUSAL TO CRUNCH WHEN CHILDREN ARE PRESENT.
*it should also be noted here that said text was assuredly a call for assistance; the day was so busy, I never saw it.

*epilogue:   said teacher, devoid of assistance from the Office Personnel, taught the offending arachnid how to spin math stories into her web. Note: No pigs were employed in this exercise, but a few corgis were used as inspiration. News at 11.

Eye Like It

Beauty in the day: a little girl was having an eye problem, and came to see the nurse. She was scared, however, and wouldn’t actually go inside the clinic, but stayed at the door instead, voicing her complaint. There was nothing the nurse could say to convince the little lady to allow her to lend assistance to the situation, although I could hear her trying many tacks. I decided to pretend I needed help.
“Excuse me, do you mind if I go first?” I didn’t wait for her answer, but continued. “Miss Nurse, my eye is bothering me. Can you please help?”
The nurse helped me wash my eye, and I left, displaying my happy face.
Not surprisingly, the little girl altered her previous stance, and allowed the nurse to help her. She left afterwards, happy to be feeling relief.
“Come back again sometime!” The nurse called to her.
“I’ll be back again tomorrow!” She called back from the stairway.
She probably can’t wait. 😉

Beauty Squared

Beauty in the day: there was more than one. Or maybe it was that I was out of the office for the previous 2 days, so that the kids just seemed cuter? Nah…
Before school could even start 2nd grade girl comes into the office, and announced boisterously: “I just got the good news about ME.” Seems she is scheduled to receive not one, but TWO awards at our upcoming 1st Trimester Awards Assembly, and apparently she is getting an award for ART, as well as one for ATTITUDE. I didn’t even need to pat her on the back; she was doing just fine.

Not long after that I was approached by Daily 3rd grade boy, who came to me and asked, “Can I tell you something?” My eyebrow went up, and I said to him (I really did), “Well, if I say ‘no’, you’re just going to tell me anyways, right?” He confirmed this theory, and so I motioned for him to “please continue”.
“Never eat at Mcdonald’s. Or never eat at family restaurants – or, I mean, fast-food restaurants.”
I have to admit, I was curious.
“And why is that?” – it was a good question; I wasn’t disappointed.
“Because they put eyeballs.”
“They put eyeballs?”
“In the food. They put eyeballs.”
“And how did you come to discover this?”
“I saw it. On the menu.”
Since I had been gone the previous two days, I was clearly a bit out of practice, because I engaged him.
“I have seen the menu, and I have not seen anything about eyeballs on it. I am sure about this.”
He countered. “Well, what I mean is that I went behind the counter where they work, and I saw.”
This I could not refute. After all, I have not been behind the counter.
“And you saw EYEBALLS??!?!??!?”
“Yes,” he said with a marked air of authority. “But you can go to Red Robbin. They do not put eyeballs in their food there.”

~ ~ ~ So there was that.

Near lunchtime, Favorite 2nd grade boy who sometimes sings Spanish-Gaelic songs (forgive me, IRISH-Gaelic – the poor boy feels that I will never let him live that down) came in to the office with a small baggie in his grip. “I have brought some first aid things with me that I will use today to be a helper at recess, in case anyone gets hurt.” He had some bandaids, and gloves, and gauze inside. During the recess, he brought a girl in (he didn’t know she was a frequent flyer). He already had his latex gloves donned, and he escorted her into the clinic, setting about the task of providing her with an ice pack (note: the ice pack is the one tool that is used more than any other in the school clinic. If a child came in suffering from frostbite or exposure, they would ask first and foremost for an ice pack). He honestly had the bedside manner of a very fine physician.

Finally, 5th-grade-girl-who-was-doing-math came in with eyes that were bothering her. I came in to see that the school nurse had suggested she lay down and shut her eyes for a minute or two.
“I’m not sure,” I said, “but my eyes are bothering me too, I think, and I would like to lay down and shut them for a minute or two as well.” I laid on the other cot, and closed my eyes, remarking on how lovely that felt, which caused 5th grade girl (who was missing math) to begin giggling. Apparently I look very comical laying on a clinic cot.

Happy Day to any of you who had so many beauties in one day!

Zippity-Doo-Dah

Beauty in the day: the principal came into the office with a look on his face. He had a story to tell. “So,” he began, “the little kindie guy was in the hall just now, and he was struggling with his zipper. So I stepped in to the rescue, and told him that I am a PRO at zippers! So I bent down, and saw that his zipper was hardly even attached! I just ‘popped!’ it right out, showing him that it was no longer stuck.” He paused – apparently for effect, since he had a “Paul-Harvey-rest-of-the-story” to relay.
“Apparently though, he wasn’t having trouble getting his jacket unzipped after all,” he smiled in a semi-embarrassed manner, “he was having trouble getting it ZIPPED.”
‪#‎oopsydaisy‬