In the past week, I have been hit, punched, kicked in the shin and head, bit in the arm, scratched, had my hair pulled and been called R-rated words. Am I a UFC champion? No. Do I work with talking, exotic animals? No, no. As you may recall, I work at an elementary school with 5-10 year olds. I work in the EBD room (Emotional and Behavior Disorder Room), so violence can sometimes be an issue. But the closer we come to the end of the year, the more bruises I'm getting. I look like a battered woman and have to explain to people that Gerrit doesn't beat me!
I come home with new battle wounds and stories to go with them almost everyday.
Gerrit's reaction is, "Those little jerks. I'm sorry, babe. How can I make you feel better?"
My sister Courtney (in a high-pitched, disgusted voice), "WHAT?! Oh my gosh, Cass!"
My mom (with deep concern), "Well honey, how are you ever going to be pregnant someday with a job like that?"
I don't know, Mom. I just don't know. Surprisingly enough, I do love the kids and my job. But I'm praising the Lord Jesus that school is almost done. Amen.
1 comment:
CassiePants,
I found your blog!
I hear ya about your students. But hey, you're finished now! Happy Summer!
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