Day 19 - Thursday

Today my mind kicked into gear long before I even got to school. For the last several weeks I have been contemplating one of the great mysteries of life. There is a long chain of events that started this thought process, so I will try to explain it in an effort to help you understand my perspective.

The first link on the chain dates back about 6 months to when my wife discovered the thrills of extreme coupon shopping. Since that time she has been coming home with various bargains that quite often cost her nothing. About a month ago, she announced that I was no longer allowed to use the bar of soap in the shower because she had gotten a lifetime supply of men's body wash for next to nothing. So now, despite the fact that my bar of soap still sits in the shower, I dutifully use the complimentary, yet highly scented, men's body wash.

Every morning as I enjoy the excessively warm water in my shower, I contemplate the vast array of smells that gets poured onto me each day. Let's start with the shave. Why do I need smells mixed with my shaving cream? It really doesn't matter since the men's body wash covers up the smell anyway. Then I get out of the shower and apply a liberal dose of deodorant which is designed to overpower the body wash. Later, I add a small pile of gel to my hair that mixes with the deodorant and body wash that still lingers to create a potpourri of olfactory sensation.

Just when I think I can't stand being around myself anymore, I reach for the toothpaste to add just a hit of mint to mix. What the product developers in product-land don't realize is that all men really want to smell like is a mesquite grill or fried bacon. What kind of man wakes up each morning and says to himself, "What kind of chemically induced, societally mandated, artificial smells can I mix together today to make me smell like things I don't even like?" Perhaps the man in skinny jeans, but not me.

Day 18 - Wednesday

There are two things that I miss the most about my position as a classroom teacher. And they both have to do with wearing good old fashioned blue jeans. Jeans are the most versatile article of clothing available to mankind. They can be used to make you look clean, rugged, strong, or even weak if they are of the skinny persuasion.

For me, the beauty of jeans lies at my feet. When I was a teacher in jeans, I would wake up in the morning and open the top drawer of my dresser and pull out one pair of white socks. It didn’t matter what color my shirt was or if I was wearing a brown belt or a black belt. My shoes made no difference either. The socks were my one constant in life. (Except for the occasional day when I would wear running shoes and the short ankle socks that are ohhh sooo comfortable, but that’s another story.) Now that I am slacks-wearing fake administrator, I have go to my closet first, before I make the trip to the sock drawer. Under this altered routine I now have to pick a shirt, then determine if it will be a pleats-day or a no-pleats-day, and then pretend I know what I am doing when I try to figure out which of the 12 colors of socks that are hidden deep in the wells of the bottom drawer will match the shirt and/or pleated or non-pleated pants. (Today: No pleats, blue shirt, khaki socks.) How I long for the simplicity that my stack of identical blue jeans has to offer.

The other benefit of jeans is that they are tough. Now that I am a slacks guy, I can’t even feed my own dogs. Under my old routine, I would feed the dogs just before I headed out the door in the morning. As one of the faux suits on campus, now I don’t dare risk getting dog hair or a muddy paw on my pants as I head out the door. In jeans, who cares about hair and paws? But in slacks, I have to look sharp and dogs and sharp just don’t mix. Now my wife oversees the feeding, but she already has a long list of things on her to-do list for the day. Maybe the good thing about this is that the kids are now helping Mom with the morning feeding. Perhaps once the jeans come back, I won’t have to worry about the dogs or Mom’s busy schedule anymore.

The best news, though, is that it should only be another day or two (or twelve) before I am back in the classroom full time and my jeans can come out of retirement. I think that when that day comes, I’ll start things off with the running shoes and ankle socks just to maximize the comfort.

Day 16 - Monday

Looks like we are not going to make it all the way to day 30. Things are winding down for this fake AP. My sub started the day by announcing that she was quitting. She had another opportunity to work at the high school and took it. (I think with a huge smile.) This is not bad. It's not like state testing is starting tomorrow. Oh, wait! It is! This is bad.

I have now decided to keep a pair of jeans in my car just in case I get sent back to the classroom at a moment's notice. The real AP is hoping to return sometime this week, although we won't actually know until he shows up. (Again, it is a complicated situation involving the government.) Until then, I am going to play double duty for a few days, spending my mornings in the classroom and the afternoons in the office.

As for knuckle-headed kids today - there were some. As a matter of fact, they were from my own class. It will be good to get back and get them straightened out. That's all for now, my battery is dying and my wife is sleeping in the room where my power cord is hiding.

Day 14 - Thursday

Today was all about flying solo. The principal was subpoenaed to testify in a custody hearing regarding one of our students, so that left me to keep things running. It would have gone swimmingly if not for the 28 parent meetings that were on my schedule in 15 minute increments all day long.

You see, one of my duties as fake assistant principal is to help manage attendance issues. When kids accumulate an excessive number of absences or tardies we call mom and dad in to the office and give them a good talking to. If that doesn't work, we do it again, but talk louder because that's about all we can do. Today was round one of the the good talking to's, so I didn't have to do it too loudly. The theory behind the crazy schedule is that any parent who can't get their kid to school probably won't show up for the meeting. Fortunately, that proved to be true today, but it still tied me to within a stone's throw of the office most of the day.

Whenever one of those gaps occurred, I dove in to the stack of bus tickets that had been issued over the last two days. What struck me was that I talked to several kids who had gotten into fights on the bus. In one case a mom immediately went on the defensive when I told her that her son had planted his knee in another child's face on the way home. She blasted me for allowing her son to be bullied all year long by these kids and wanted me to believe that her son was the victim. This brought two issues to my mind.

Issue #1: Let's find out if this kid is a bully or a victim. The plan: Wait until after school and ask the bus driver what she had seen. The result: Little Johnny is indeed the bully and has been tossing around profanity and harassing and fighting with other kids on the bus on a regular basis. The verdict: Johnny gets to walk to school for a whole week. Maybe the exercise will help.

Issue #2: If I knew that my child was being bullied on the bus on a daily basis, there is no way in the world that I would send him into that environment over and over again. Would you put your terrier into a cage with vicious pit bulls every morning so that he could be educated? I think not. You would find a new way to solve the problem.

The real issue here is uninvolved parents who want to complain about a free education so that they don't have to deal with the hassle of raising their own kids. The solution is the opposite.

Day 13 - Wednesday

It's been a long day. I know that because a) I'm tired and b) the first thing my wife said to me when I got home was, "If you could take the kids for just one hour all would be right in the world." I complied and this was the result: One dad, two dogs, one stroller, two bikes, and a tricycle. Now picture this: All four kids and the two dogs each have their own unique pace. Oh well, they all know where the park is. They'll probably make it.

I think I know why I am so tired today. It really has nothing to do with school. It has to do with that darn book. You know the one that I was almost finished with for three nights in a row and kept staying up later than I should trying to get it done. Well, it's done and the bad guy is dead. Now I have to resume the "Non Fiction, Make Myself a Better Person" book I started before I started the novel with the dead bad guy. For some reason dead bad guys are easier to read.

As for the school day, it started with a bang. First thing this morning I held a meeting with an eight-year-old, his mom, and his teacher to implement a behavior plan. The plan actually mentioned that the kid is not allowed to threaten to kill people anymore. He agreed and signed his name on the dotted line. He even upheld his end of the bargain... until lunch.

Next I called a parent and gave her the option of having her kid kicked off the bus for a week or serving a one day school suspension. Mom chose the suspension as long as we sent a huge pile of work so the kid wouldn't have time to play. Again, I complied. You should have seen his backpack.

More to come tomorrow. I get to meet with parents of the habitually truant. Should be fun.

Day 12 - Tuesday

It’s not everyday that I have a really good idea, but today one of those brilliant notions came to me. Actually, it all started several years ago when a fellow teacher started running her class like a junior ROTC program. The students learn to march in formation and there is a heavy emphasis placed on leadership skills. During my current absence from the classroom, my substitute has used her military background to institute a regimented theme and the students have responded well.

When I received an e-mail from a parent who was concerned that her son was being bullied, I thought long and hard how to handle it. Of course, the bullies were from my own class, so I had dealt with this situation before. This time a new approach was needed. Since I had noticed these particular students thriving in a rigid military setting, I decided to speak their language.

I found the offending bullies on the playground during recess and, in a very precise military tone, ordered them to report to my office at once. Upon arrival, I handed each of them a notice entitled “Official Orders - Anonymous Elementary Military Corps.” The noticed included all of their names, preceded by their title: PFC. The memo also indicated that it had been drafted by General “The Office” himself.

Included in their orders was the duty to treat the bullied student with respect and to model for the other members of their platoon how to show respect. They were also instructed to report any incidents of disrespect toward the specified student in a timely manner.

By the end of the day, three additional students had volunteered to sign up for protection duty, bringing the total to six. I printed off additional copies of the orders and had the new recruits sign them as well.

For your reading pleasure (and in case you want to use it on a kid of your own), a copy of the order is included below:

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Official Orders
Anonymous Elementary Military Corps


The following orders are issued to you by your commanding officer. You are to comply with the terms of these orders. Failure to comply will result in the disciplinary action including, but not limited to, loss of rank and dishonorable discharge.

Orders: Effective today, you are ordered to protect the livelihood and spirit of Les Picking, a member of your platoon. This includes refraining from physical or verbal threats or intimidation and refraining from teasing, mocking, or humiliating said person.

Your duty is to support and encourage the specified person by offering assistance as needed and by demonstrating an accepting attitude toward him, thereby showing others how to treat members of their platoon.

It is your further duty to confront those who violate Les Picking's well-being. Any confrontation with an offender must be limited to a verbal conversation intended to show the offender the worth of the subject. Should further offenses occur, it is your duty to report the offender to your commanding officer in a timely manner.

You are to report on the status of these orders to General "The Office" during your recess break each day.

Day 11 - Monday

Spring is not in the air. The first Monday back in the office after Spring Break got started with a soggy dose of rain. One of the usual side effects of rain is squirrelly children who are tired of being cooped up inside stuffy classrooms. Today, that effect was delayed. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the kids had been off school for a week and didn't mind the classrooms. Regardless of the reason, the morning was slow and the children somewhat angelic.

Since the morning was slow, I decided to go on the offensive. As recess rolled around, I sauntered onto the playground in an attempt to drum up some business. I scanned the scene and marveled to see that everyone seemed to be behaving. Oh well, there's always the first and second recess next. Then something caught my eye. Off to the west, I noticed three young men approaching me. Their hands were resting behind their backs and they stood straight and proud, their footsteps marching in a coordinated beat. These are the same fifth graders who had announced to me last week that their "days of misbehavior" were behind them. "Left, Left, Left, Right Left," one of them sang out. "Good morning, Mr. "The Office."

I returned their greeting, but eyed them with suspicion. I asked them if they were still interested in attending boot camp this summer. Based on their enthusiastic responses, I'd better see about finding a place that will take them. Given the rain, the kids were not aloud on the sand during recess, but it soon proved to great a temptation for my young recruits. Just a few feet away from me, the marching trio broke rank and, as if on cue, darted across the sand only to be busted by one of the playground supervisors on the other side. At least they are trying. This is an improvement.

Did I mention that the rain only served to delay the inevitable rather than eliminate it? By the time lunch was over, we were in full swing and kids were knocking on both the front and back doors of my office. The blissfully crazy afternoon was a welcome break from the monotony of the morning. Maybe tomorrow will start with a little more more enthusiasm.