Augusta comes to school with this huge, cheap, gawdy looking watch on. He was so proud of it, and would position his body in ways that best displayed the watch. He made a comment to a couple of kids in the hall way about his "bling-bling", while showcasing the watch. Word got out, and at the next recess, everyone was making fun of him, saying shit to him about his bling-bling, and about how his dad was probably wondering where his watch is.
At one point, a student grabbed at the watch. Augusta flipped out, threw his arm up over his head and started to shriek. He took the watch off and stuffed it in his coat pocket, warning others not to mess with his bling-bling. He then stormed into the office to call his mom so he could go home and shower.
Showing posts with label Augusta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Augusta. Show all posts
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Saturday, November 7, 2015
68: St. Paddy's Day:
The new kid came in today wearing a fucking black top hat and had a black plastic cauldron full of gold foiled chocolate coins. The cauldron hung from the front of his walker. He actually came to school as a leprechaun, although he never could verbalize that. He would just respond "yes" when asked by others if he was, indeed, a leprechaun. He gave goofy smiles, and kids would take a shitload of chocolate coins out of his bucket. They abused the "take one" privilege until the coins were all gone, at about 9:45 a.m.
We had a small St. Patrick's Day party in the afternoon. The new kids mother made each kid a shamrock cookie with green frosting. She also made green kool-aid, but it was pretty nasty. I think it might have been sugar-free or something.
The whole gesture was very nice of her. At the end of the party, when I probed the kids to thank her, amongst many "Thank You's," I hear Augusta mutter, "Thanks for the Green Water."
We had a small St. Patrick's Day party in the afternoon. The new kids mother made each kid a shamrock cookie with green frosting. She also made green kool-aid, but it was pretty nasty. I think it might have been sugar-free or something.
The whole gesture was very nice of her. At the end of the party, when I probed the kids to thank her, amongst many "Thank You's," I hear Augusta mutter, "Thanks for the Green Water."
65: New mother reads her Machiavelli:
The new kids mom has cleverly worked it so that her son is now the most popular kid in my class. She has extended her pattern of daily gift-giving beyond me.
She now brings in little surprises for the kids, and she MAKES her son pass them out. He has no clue about why she is there, and why he is struggling to hand out rice-krispy treats via his walker. But he does it, and this makes the kids like him. Sometimes he will even give into Augusta's greedy attempts to coerce him into giving him an extra treat, leaving himself without one.
This mother has entirely taken over the 15 minute period in our day that is referred to as "snack time". Fuck everyone else's nasty donations--on Thursday she brought in EGG ROLLS that she had made herself. They were so good that I would have fought Augusta for the last one.
Wednesday was the day she brought in the cake. This day has become legendary in our classroom. The kids refer to this day as "Bunny Cake Day". It was a cake, shaped like a bunny with colored coconut sprinkles on the frosting to form eyes, nose and mouth. It also had Jelly Beans along the outside.
When she brought her son in the morning, she set the cake on the front table. The kids admired the fucking thing throughout the morning, and were overjoyed when she returned at 11:00 a.m. to serve it. Along with little pint size chocolate milk cartons, of course.
It is so funny to see how many kids now will play with the new kid. Especially kids like Tyler, who will do anything he can to extort money from him. And Augusta!! He always sits next to the new kid at lunchtime. The new kid is easily talked out of anything in his lunchbox. The new kid often goes hungry.
She now brings in little surprises for the kids, and she MAKES her son pass them out. He has no clue about why she is there, and why he is struggling to hand out rice-krispy treats via his walker. But he does it, and this makes the kids like him. Sometimes he will even give into Augusta's greedy attempts to coerce him into giving him an extra treat, leaving himself without one.
This mother has entirely taken over the 15 minute period in our day that is referred to as "snack time". Fuck everyone else's nasty donations--on Thursday she brought in EGG ROLLS that she had made herself. They were so good that I would have fought Augusta for the last one.
Wednesday was the day she brought in the cake. This day has become legendary in our classroom. The kids refer to this day as "Bunny Cake Day". It was a cake, shaped like a bunny with colored coconut sprinkles on the frosting to form eyes, nose and mouth. It also had Jelly Beans along the outside.
When she brought her son in the morning, she set the cake on the front table. The kids admired the fucking thing throughout the morning, and were overjoyed when she returned at 11:00 a.m. to serve it. Along with little pint size chocolate milk cartons, of course.
It is so funny to see how many kids now will play with the new kid. Especially kids like Tyler, who will do anything he can to extort money from him. And Augusta!! He always sits next to the new kid at lunchtime. The new kid is easily talked out of anything in his lunchbox. The new kid often goes hungry.
60: Augusta's criminal activities move up in scope:
Augusta's cousin works as a physical therapist for a local sports team. Often, Augusta gets to accompany his cousin to games, and meet the players. Augusta, as we know, is also somewhat of a kleptomaniac.
He recently came to school with a bunch of these tubes of glue. The packaging made the tubes appear to be syringes. Out at recess, one of the playground aides caught a large circle of boys that Augusta had rallied, all sniffing the Dermabond type stuff.
Augusta is nailed. He has succeeded in distributing inhalants to his peers at a public school. Him and all of the boys who were in the glue circle were summoned to the office. Many of the boys had, in their possession, a tube of the glue, given to them by Augusta.
Augusta's Dad claims that neither Augusta nor any of the boys were sniffing the glue. His blindness to this confuses me. It's not like Augusta had a model airplane out there with him. Augusta has been suspended for three days, and the other boys who were caught with the glue are suspended for one.
He recently came to school with a bunch of these tubes of glue. The packaging made the tubes appear to be syringes. Out at recess, one of the playground aides caught a large circle of boys that Augusta had rallied, all sniffing the Dermabond type stuff.
Augusta is nailed. He has succeeded in distributing inhalants to his peers at a public school. Him and all of the boys who were in the glue circle were summoned to the office. Many of the boys had, in their possession, a tube of the glue, given to them by Augusta.
Augusta's Dad claims that neither Augusta nor any of the boys were sniffing the glue. His blindness to this confuses me. It's not like Augusta had a model airplane out there with him. Augusta has been suspended for three days, and the other boys who were caught with the glue are suspended for one.
59: Augusta steals more food:
Earlier this week, the new kid's mom brought him a meal from Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch. It contained more food then he could eat in an entire day. There were 3 pieces of chicken, a biscuit, mashed potatoes, pudding and a big ass soda pop.
She set everything up for him; buttered his roll, cut up bites of chicken, put spoons in his pudding and potatoes. She then left. Augusta swooped towards him like a vulture. I was temporarily distracted by questions from the bitchy lunch money lady, and dealt with her for about 5 minutes.
After I deal with her shit, I walk over to the new kid, and notice that his lunch, in its entirety, is gone. Even his soda pop, finished.
I ask him how he ate his lunch so fast. Tyler, who is sitting nearby, points at Augusta, and says, "No he didn't eat it, the Kentucky Fried Fat-Ass over there did."
She set everything up for him; buttered his roll, cut up bites of chicken, put spoons in his pudding and potatoes. She then left. Augusta swooped towards him like a vulture. I was temporarily distracted by questions from the bitchy lunch money lady, and dealt with her for about 5 minutes.
After I deal with her shit, I walk over to the new kid, and notice that his lunch, in its entirety, is gone. Even his soda pop, finished.
I ask him how he ate his lunch so fast. Tyler, who is sitting nearby, points at Augusta, and says, "No he didn't eat it, the Kentucky Fried Fat-Ass over there did."
58: Treat jar causes problems:
Brad and Tom got into a huge fight about who, out of the two of them, would get to chose from the Friday treat jar first. The Friday treat jar is glass, and has a metal top on it.
The two of them were pulling at the jar, each trying to select a piece of candy first, when they dropped the treat jar on the tile floor, causing it to shatter. This causes mixed reactions amongst the tards.
Some immediately burst into tears, as they can not deal with loud, startling noises. Lewis freaks out, and stays as far away from the glass he can because "Glass has AIDS." All Brian wants to do is pick up the little bits of glass. Because of this, he is removed from the classroom until the custodian comes down to sweep it all up. Augusta charges the remnants of the broken jar like a pinata had just been broken into. He completely ignores the glass aspect, and starts grabbing at the candy on the floor. He cuts his hand, but it still takes two aides to remove him and his bleeding hand from the candy.
I decide that it is too dangerous to have the tards in the room with broken glass all over, so I take them outside to play until it was all cleaned up.
The two of them were pulling at the jar, each trying to select a piece of candy first, when they dropped the treat jar on the tile floor, causing it to shatter. This causes mixed reactions amongst the tards.
Some immediately burst into tears, as they can not deal with loud, startling noises. Lewis freaks out, and stays as far away from the glass he can because "Glass has AIDS." All Brian wants to do is pick up the little bits of glass. Because of this, he is removed from the classroom until the custodian comes down to sweep it all up. Augusta charges the remnants of the broken jar like a pinata had just been broken into. He completely ignores the glass aspect, and starts grabbing at the candy on the floor. He cuts his hand, but it still takes two aides to remove him and his bleeding hand from the candy.
I decide that it is too dangerous to have the tards in the room with broken glass all over, so I take them outside to play until it was all cleaned up.
53: Augusta steals, again:
I don't lock my classroom door during the day. My purse is locked in my cabinet, and there isn't much anyone would want to steal. Except for one kid and one item. Augusta and food.
I had gone up to the staff lounge to eat lunch, the kids were out at recess. They are not to enter the building until recess is over. This is a rule they are familiar with. I had to come back down to my room because I had left my diet coke there. I walk in the room, flip on the lights, and find Augusta digging furiously through the kids lunches, gobbling up their food.
"What do you think you are doing?" I ask him.
"I was seeing if I forgot my lunch," he responds.
This is bullshit. The kid buys lunch everyday. And he has powdered sugar all over his face and shirt.
I scold him for awhile, then drag him up to the office, where he gets to tell the principal what he did, call his mother and tell her what he did, and then write letters of apology to all the kids whose lunches he ate.
I had gone up to the staff lounge to eat lunch, the kids were out at recess. They are not to enter the building until recess is over. This is a rule they are familiar with. I had to come back down to my room because I had left my diet coke there. I walk in the room, flip on the lights, and find Augusta digging furiously through the kids lunches, gobbling up their food.
"What do you think you are doing?" I ask him.
"I was seeing if I forgot my lunch," he responds.
This is bullshit. The kid buys lunch everyday. And he has powdered sugar all over his face and shirt.
I scold him for awhile, then drag him up to the office, where he gets to tell the principal what he did, call his mother and tell her what he did, and then write letters of apology to all the kids whose lunches he ate.
51: Valentines Day Party:
We had a Valentines day party. The activity was frosting and decorating heart shaped sugar cookies. It was awesome! We had like 10 different kinds of candy to decorate with, and the kids absolutely loved it! They had a ball decorating their cookies. The problem arose when the kids had to take turns going to the "decorating table".
I had set up a table in back with the cookies, frosting, plates and all the little decorating candies. There was only enough room for three kids at a time to be there. I chose three kids at a time to go back, and made my selections based on behavior, so they decorated in an order of best to worst behaved kids. The order started with Lindsay, Peter and The New Kid and would end with Brad, Jamal and Augusta.
This freaked Augusta, causing him to assume there would be slim pickings on the candy. He was pissed off. He was so pissed off and concerned about the candy usage, that he took it upon himself to monitor, from his desk, each students decorating job.
None of the other kids in my class would ever think this way. They would be pissed because they had to wait so long to make their cookie, but never would it occur to them to be pissed at the depletion of candy. There was heaps and mounds of candy on that back table. Ten plates full of different candy; we weren't going to run out if there had been fifteen Augustas decorating cookies.
I knew this, but Augusta didn't. He watched each kids cookies like a greedy hawk, constantly commenting about using too much candy. It was pissing me off because they kids were having a good time doing a special activity.
I had warned him to pipe down a few different times before he called Tom a "fat pig" for using lots of candy on his cookie, and eating some while he decorated. I sent him out to sit in the hall. Right before it would have been his turn to make a cookie, the office buzzed my room, informing me that Augusta's mother was in the office to pick him up early, and I was to send him down ready to go home.
All his worrying had been done in vain, and in the end, he would have no cookie to eat.
I went out to the hall to tell him to get his stuff and go down to the office, his mother was here to get him. He refuses to go. I went back in the room and packed all his stuff up for him. I then went out to the hall to give it to him. He refused to take it, so I put it on the floor next to him. He refused to get up, to walk down the office, etc.
I wanted him out of there. He was being rude and disobedient. He wouldn't go. This is when Riti Sped forms a brilliant plan.
I remember that Augusta had really enjoyed the play Hansel and Gretel that we had seen two weeks earlier. I gave my aide a bag of Hershey Kisses. She went out to the hall and laid them out in a scattered trail, leading to the office. I give Augusta a paper sack, and tell him there is a trail of treats laid out that will lead him to a prize. He jumps up and snatches the bag out of my hand. I had never before seen him move so fast.
He begins furiously picking up the chocolates. He was like a police dog searching for drugs. My aide followed Augusta out and all the way to the office. I needed her there in the end, as I knew he would be upset and accuse me of lying. He gets to the office where his mom is waiting. He completely ignores her, and inquires about the location of his prize. "Well it is your mom Augusta, she is your special prize!" my aide happily announces to him.
He does not like this one bit. He starts bitching out his mom in front of the entire office staff. He was saying things like she was to buy him a bag of cookies, and that she ruined his plan for his cookie.
He finally calmed down when his mom agreed to buy him his OWN ice cream pie from Baskin Robbins that he would not have to share with anybody.
I had set up a table in back with the cookies, frosting, plates and all the little decorating candies. There was only enough room for three kids at a time to be there. I chose three kids at a time to go back, and made my selections based on behavior, so they decorated in an order of best to worst behaved kids. The order started with Lindsay, Peter and The New Kid and would end with Brad, Jamal and Augusta.
This freaked Augusta, causing him to assume there would be slim pickings on the candy. He was pissed off. He was so pissed off and concerned about the candy usage, that he took it upon himself to monitor, from his desk, each students decorating job.
None of the other kids in my class would ever think this way. They would be pissed because they had to wait so long to make their cookie, but never would it occur to them to be pissed at the depletion of candy. There was heaps and mounds of candy on that back table. Ten plates full of different candy; we weren't going to run out if there had been fifteen Augustas decorating cookies.
I knew this, but Augusta didn't. He watched each kids cookies like a greedy hawk, constantly commenting about using too much candy. It was pissing me off because they kids were having a good time doing a special activity.
I had warned him to pipe down a few different times before he called Tom a "fat pig" for using lots of candy on his cookie, and eating some while he decorated. I sent him out to sit in the hall. Right before it would have been his turn to make a cookie, the office buzzed my room, informing me that Augusta's mother was in the office to pick him up early, and I was to send him down ready to go home.
All his worrying had been done in vain, and in the end, he would have no cookie to eat.
I went out to the hall to tell him to get his stuff and go down to the office, his mother was here to get him. He refuses to go. I went back in the room and packed all his stuff up for him. I then went out to the hall to give it to him. He refused to take it, so I put it on the floor next to him. He refused to get up, to walk down the office, etc.
I wanted him out of there. He was being rude and disobedient. He wouldn't go. This is when Riti Sped forms a brilliant plan.
I remember that Augusta had really enjoyed the play Hansel and Gretel that we had seen two weeks earlier. I gave my aide a bag of Hershey Kisses. She went out to the hall and laid them out in a scattered trail, leading to the office. I give Augusta a paper sack, and tell him there is a trail of treats laid out that will lead him to a prize. He jumps up and snatches the bag out of my hand. I had never before seen him move so fast.
He begins furiously picking up the chocolates. He was like a police dog searching for drugs. My aide followed Augusta out and all the way to the office. I needed her there in the end, as I knew he would be upset and accuse me of lying. He gets to the office where his mom is waiting. He completely ignores her, and inquires about the location of his prize. "Well it is your mom Augusta, she is your special prize!" my aide happily announces to him.
He does not like this one bit. He starts bitching out his mom in front of the entire office staff. He was saying things like she was to buy him a bag of cookies, and that she ruined his plan for his cookie.
He finally calmed down when his mom agreed to buy him his OWN ice cream pie from Baskin Robbins that he would not have to share with anybody.
49: Lindsay is observant:
Lindsay is such a sweet little girl. She is generally quiet, compliant, and composed. This is why what happened today is so funny.
At the end of reading group Augusta stands up. Lindsay is sitting right behind him. She looks at his pants, which were exceptionally tight today, and says very loudly, but to no one in particular, "Oh My God!!!! Augusta just keeps getting fatter and fatter!!"
At the end of reading group Augusta stands up. Lindsay is sitting right behind him. She looks at his pants, which were exceptionally tight today, and says very loudly, but to no one in particular, "Oh My God!!!! Augusta just keeps getting fatter and fatter!!"
46: Augusta doesn't like this birthday:
We celebrated a tard's birthday today. She turned eleven. She had brought cupcakes from Safeway. They were not home made. In preparation for the celebration and cupcakes, I make them all wash their hands.
Augusta has never felt that the classroom washing facilities were adequate, so he always washes in the restroom. This also allows him to avoid waiting in line to wash his hands, and he can take all the time he wants.
The girl passes out the cupcakes, we sing happy birthday to her, and Augusta still had not come back. As the kids begin eating, he finally returns. (note: the cupcakes looked nasty, as they had bright red frosting. But they were made at a bakery, so I did not complain.)
Augusta walks in and sits down at the table. He takes one look at the cupcake and gets so angry that he turns it over and smears it all over the table. He looks at the kid next to him and says "I can't believe you can eat that, it looks like abortion."
I could not help but laugh. It was quite a vivid metaphor.
Then I sent him to the office.
Augusta has never felt that the classroom washing facilities were adequate, so he always washes in the restroom. This also allows him to avoid waiting in line to wash his hands, and he can take all the time he wants.
The girl passes out the cupcakes, we sing happy birthday to her, and Augusta still had not come back. As the kids begin eating, he finally returns. (note: the cupcakes looked nasty, as they had bright red frosting. But they were made at a bakery, so I did not complain.)
Augusta walks in and sits down at the table. He takes one look at the cupcake and gets so angry that he turns it over and smears it all over the table. He looks at the kid next to him and says "I can't believe you can eat that, it looks like abortion."
I could not help but laugh. It was quite a vivid metaphor.
Then I sent him to the office.
45: Augusta caught in a lie:
Tuesday morning the office gets a call. It is Augusta's dad. Augusta had told him that it was "Take your son to work day," but he had heard nothing about it. He was calling to see if this was true.
The secretary checked, and no, this was not true. Augusta had lied and had gotten caught.
He showed up a little later with his surgical mask on. I questioned his lie to his dad, but he whispers to me that he can't talk, he had lost his voice.
The secretary checked, and no, this was not true. Augusta had lied and had gotten caught.
He showed up a little later with his surgical mask on. I questioned his lie to his dad, but he whispers to me that he can't talk, he had lost his voice.
41: Augusta gets fed up, tries to kill classmate:
January through March brings about a slew of illnesses in elementary schools. This is especially true for elementary school special ed classes. The cornucopia of airborne bacteria and viruses in my classroom during this time is almost shocking. A Level 4 biohazard suit could not fully protect you from these tard germs. The rate of contagion is similar to being in a CDC lab.
Let truth the be told: it is near impossible for retarded kids to remember to "cover their mouths" when coughing. It is disturbing when I think about it, but I have been around it for so long that I am immune to everything. Hell, I doubt I could catch the HIV virus.
The tards cough, sneeze, and salivate on each other (and myself) constantly. None of them even realize that they are being coughed on or are coughing on others. Except for one student. This student is, quite obviously, Augusta.
The situation today was this: During reading group, around 9:50am, Augusta plus six other tards, were seated at my horseshoe shaped table, me testing their comprehension on the story I had JUST read them. (Sidenote: I had to re-read the story to them.)
Four out of the seven are sick as fuck. But of course their parents don't want to stay home and deal with them, so I have to deal with their sickness. I can deal with it, I am their teacher and they are my tards and I'll take care of them.
Augusta cannot deal with it. Even though Augusta repeatedly tells the coughing kids to cover their mouths, they do not. He probably said "cover your mouth" twelve times. He eventually has enough, and gets up and walks to the other side of the room, refusing to be near them. He says, "If they're not gonna cover their mouths, I won't sit by them." I told him he needed to come back to the table immediately. He did reluctantly, but with his shirt over his nose and mouth, like a fucking gasmask. He even talked this way.
Near the end of reading group, the tard sitting next to Augusta lays down an impressive series of foul coughs. Augusta has had it. He turns to the kid and starts strangling him--seriously strangling him.
He was so pissed that I could see veins popping out of his neck during the strangling. As he is strangling and shaking the sick kid, he is yelling at the top of voice "QUIT COUGHING!! QUIT COUGHING!!"
In order to stop this assault, I am forced to lean across the table and karate chop Augusta's strangling arms as hard as I could. I had to wail on him as hard as I could to prevent him from killing the kid.
Luckily it worked, and his arms were immediately knocked down, and the choked tard ran off screaming and coughing. Without covering his mouth.
Augusta was issued an in-house suspension for this, spending two days in the principals office. When Augusta was allowed to resume coming to class, he showed up with a fucking mask that dentists and Michael Jackson wear. The kind with rubberbands that attach to your ears and cover your mouth and nose. He kept it on all day. Except, of course, during feeding time, when he made a pig out of himself.
Let truth the be told: it is near impossible for retarded kids to remember to "cover their mouths" when coughing. It is disturbing when I think about it, but I have been around it for so long that I am immune to everything. Hell, I doubt I could catch the HIV virus.
The tards cough, sneeze, and salivate on each other (and myself) constantly. None of them even realize that they are being coughed on or are coughing on others. Except for one student. This student is, quite obviously, Augusta.
The situation today was this: During reading group, around 9:50am, Augusta plus six other tards, were seated at my horseshoe shaped table, me testing their comprehension on the story I had JUST read them. (Sidenote: I had to re-read the story to them.)
Four out of the seven are sick as fuck. But of course their parents don't want to stay home and deal with them, so I have to deal with their sickness. I can deal with it, I am their teacher and they are my tards and I'll take care of them.
Augusta cannot deal with it. Even though Augusta repeatedly tells the coughing kids to cover their mouths, they do not. He probably said "cover your mouth" twelve times. He eventually has enough, and gets up and walks to the other side of the room, refusing to be near them. He says, "If they're not gonna cover their mouths, I won't sit by them." I told him he needed to come back to the table immediately. He did reluctantly, but with his shirt over his nose and mouth, like a fucking gasmask. He even talked this way.
Near the end of reading group, the tard sitting next to Augusta lays down an impressive series of foul coughs. Augusta has had it. He turns to the kid and starts strangling him--seriously strangling him.
He was so pissed that I could see veins popping out of his neck during the strangling. As he is strangling and shaking the sick kid, he is yelling at the top of voice "QUIT COUGHING!! QUIT COUGHING!!"
In order to stop this assault, I am forced to lean across the table and karate chop Augusta's strangling arms as hard as I could. I had to wail on him as hard as I could to prevent him from killing the kid.
Luckily it worked, and his arms were immediately knocked down, and the choked tard ran off screaming and coughing. Without covering his mouth.
Augusta was issued an in-house suspension for this, spending two days in the principals office. When Augusta was allowed to resume coming to class, he showed up with a fucking mask that dentists and Michael Jackson wear. The kind with rubberbands that attach to your ears and cover your mouth and nose. He kept it on all day. Except, of course, during feeding time, when he made a pig out of himself.
27: Augusta won't touch mail either
Augusta is in the office, waiting to go home because he was touched. It happened during PE, when they were having relay races and he was shoved.
I call up to the office from my classroom and ask them to assign Augusta some task to work on while he waits.
So they have Augusta put the mail away in the teachers boxes. And we all know how many people touch mail. He was freaking out. Scared even.
The secretary told me that she left him in the mailroom to put away a huge bin of mail. She checked on him 5 minutes later. He was moving at the pace of a one-hundred year old woman, cautiously picking up each letter with either one finger from each hand or with his sweatshirt pulled over his hand. He treated each piece of mail like he was handling weapons grade plutonium.
She went in and asked him why he wasn't moving along. He said that he didn't really like to put away mail. She offered him some rubber gloves. He accepted, and the bin of mail was put away in ten minutes.
I call up to the office from my classroom and ask them to assign Augusta some task to work on while he waits.
So they have Augusta put the mail away in the teachers boxes. And we all know how many people touch mail. He was freaking out. Scared even.
The secretary told me that she left him in the mailroom to put away a huge bin of mail. She checked on him 5 minutes later. He was moving at the pace of a one-hundred year old woman, cautiously picking up each letter with either one finger from each hand or with his sweatshirt pulled over his hand. He treated each piece of mail like he was handling weapons grade plutonium.
She went in and asked him why he wasn't moving along. He said that he didn't really like to put away mail. She offered him some rubber gloves. He accepted, and the bin of mail was put away in ten minutes.
26: Tards contribute snacks:
Augusta comes to school today with snacks that he was donating to the class. A regular size ziploc sandwich bag stuffed so full of nuts that it would barely close. It was weird. I put them aside, and later when the kids are at music I look more carefully at the nuts. There are 2 kinds of nuts in the bag. Hazelnuts and Brazil nuts. Both of which are nasty. They were also salted.
I was puzzled, so I asked Augusta about the odd donation. He told me that his family has a huge 5 pound can of mixed nuts at home, and that they liked all of the nuts except these two kinds. Super. I am very excited about feeding the rejected nuts from Augusta's family to my class.
Other donations:
- Lindsay: Scooby-Doo fruit snacks
- Brad: peanut butter Rice Krispy treats
- Tom: cheese mini-Ritz bits
I know what I will be giving Augusta for his snack for a long, long time.
I was puzzled, so I asked Augusta about the odd donation. He told me that his family has a huge 5 pound can of mixed nuts at home, and that they liked all of the nuts except these two kinds. Super. I am very excited about feeding the rejected nuts from Augusta's family to my class.
Other donations:
- Lindsay: Scooby-Doo fruit snacks
- Brad: peanut butter Rice Krispy treats
- Tom: cheese mini-Ritz bits
I know what I will be giving Augusta for his snack for a long, long time.
25: Riti teaches the tards about sex:
I have to teach my kids about sex in a series called "Family Life." I can hardly stand it. This is primarily because I still laugh at words like "uterus" and "fallopian tubes." Especially if there are other people laughing hysterically, it is hard for me to contain myself. I was trying so hard not to laugh throughout the entire 25 minute duration of "Family Life".
I had to show a diagram of the female reproductive system, point out the parts, and describe their functions. Also, I have both males and females in my group, unlike the other classes, where they split the classes into male/female groups.
I started the unit on Friday. I am also obligated, by state law, to take questions from the tards and answer them honestly.
The very first (and only) question I received was this, from AUGUSTA, "What does sex feel like?"
Fucking-A. I am now in the worst situation possible. How do I answer this to a group of tards? I definitely do not want to imply that I have ever had sex. I think about it for a bit, and finally say, "Well, I guess it feels good, otherwise people wouldn't do it." They all seemed to accept this answer.
Thank God that Family Life time was over before someone asked me another question.
I am dreading Monday. I am convinced that they will verbally attack me, and force me to answer questions about my sex life. Plus I still can't help but laugh during the entire lesson.
Somebody shoot me, please.
I had to show a diagram of the female reproductive system, point out the parts, and describe their functions. Also, I have both males and females in my group, unlike the other classes, where they split the classes into male/female groups.
I started the unit on Friday. I am also obligated, by state law, to take questions from the tards and answer them honestly.
The very first (and only) question I received was this, from AUGUSTA, "What does sex feel like?"
Fucking-A. I am now in the worst situation possible. How do I answer this to a group of tards? I definitely do not want to imply that I have ever had sex. I think about it for a bit, and finally say, "Well, I guess it feels good, otherwise people wouldn't do it." They all seemed to accept this answer.
Thank God that Family Life time was over before someone asked me another question.
I am dreading Monday. I am convinced that they will verbally attack me, and force me to answer questions about my sex life. Plus I still can't help but laugh during the entire lesson.
Somebody shoot me, please.
Friday, November 6, 2015
20: Augusta's fear of germs goes to a new level
Augusta has spent every recess inside with me this week, due to his candy cane theft before break.
He hates it. I hate it more. Augusta smells like a hot litterbox. This is peculiar, as I never noticed it prior to the break. I honestly think that he is making himself reek in order to keep others away, lessening the chance that someone will touch him. I know, it sounds exaggerated to those of you not in daily contact with tards, but I know my naughty little reetees and I think this is the case.
On Monday he spent all three recesses with me, in my classroom, with his head down. He fucking stank. Happy New Year To Me.
Tuesday he spent the two fifteen minute recesses with me. During the lunch recess (thirty minutes) I let him listen to a booktape at the listening station. I did this strategically, as the listening station is furthest from my desk. I didn't want my lunch to taste like the Augusta.
So here comes Wednesday, when Augusta proceeds to horrify me almost beyond belief.
It is approximately 10:30 a.m. when Augusta asks to go to the bathroom. I allow it, and set the timer. (They have 2 minutes to get back before they lose behavior points.) The timer goes off, Augusta is not back. Because he is a large child, I give him another 2 minutes. He still is not back. (The bathroom is directly next door to my classroom.) I send an aide out to get him. She comes back a minute later without Augusta. This is exactly what she told me:
"I yelled in and said 'Augusta, what are you doing in there?' In a deep, low mans voice, he says 'Go away, no one is in here.'"
Now Augusta is fucking with us. Being retarded and mentally disturbed, I do not find it odd that he is trying to play ghost in the bathroom with us. Now I am going to have to walk into the boys bathroom and haul his ass out. I walk to the door of the bathroom, which is always left open and say, "Augusta you get out here right now."
Augusta doesn't have a lot left to lose if he chooses to not follow directions. His behavior chart is already full of negative comments. He is already in at recess, with no snack, and I have told him already that he will earn no stickers for the entire week. I could revoke PE and Music privileges, but he hates them anyway.
"Do I have to come in and get you? Are you gonna be a baby?" (he is 11). Augusta doesn't respond. I brace myself and enter, only to see the most vile scene possible. This is the best way I can describe it:
The garbage can is in the middle of the floor. Augusta is squatting over it, completely naked from the waste down, one leg on each side of the trash can. His shoes, socks, pants and underwear are in a pile by the sink. His back is to me, his arms are straight out in front of him, and he is taking a dump.
I immediately turn and exit. I feel absolutely violated, like I had popped a few rohypnol, chugged a beer and laid myself on the couch at Phi Delts for all to have at. I then do what I do when I can't deal with what is going on, and push the alert principal button.
He comes down and goes into the bathroom. Augusta has dressed himself, and is washing his hands furiously. There is a pile of shit in the garbage can. The principal escorts him up to the office, where Augusta has a little one-on-one with the school nurse. My aide takes the bag of shit out to the dumpster.
Augusta's mom comes and takes him home, but not before a meeting with the principal. He said she was completely embarrassed.
The school nurse came down later in the day to talk with me. Apparently, Augusta doesn't want to sit on the school toilet seat because he is afraid of getting "butt germs". He used those two words! He will go pee at school, but will not sit down. I can only wonder how many other times this year he has had to take a crap.
He hates it. I hate it more. Augusta smells like a hot litterbox. This is peculiar, as I never noticed it prior to the break. I honestly think that he is making himself reek in order to keep others away, lessening the chance that someone will touch him. I know, it sounds exaggerated to those of you not in daily contact with tards, but I know my naughty little reetees and I think this is the case.
On Monday he spent all three recesses with me, in my classroom, with his head down. He fucking stank. Happy New Year To Me.
Tuesday he spent the two fifteen minute recesses with me. During the lunch recess (thirty minutes) I let him listen to a booktape at the listening station. I did this strategically, as the listening station is furthest from my desk. I didn't want my lunch to taste like the Augusta.
So here comes Wednesday, when Augusta proceeds to horrify me almost beyond belief.
It is approximately 10:30 a.m. when Augusta asks to go to the bathroom. I allow it, and set the timer. (They have 2 minutes to get back before they lose behavior points.) The timer goes off, Augusta is not back. Because he is a large child, I give him another 2 minutes. He still is not back. (The bathroom is directly next door to my classroom.) I send an aide out to get him. She comes back a minute later without Augusta. This is exactly what she told me:
"I yelled in and said 'Augusta, what are you doing in there?' In a deep, low mans voice, he says 'Go away, no one is in here.'"
Now Augusta is fucking with us. Being retarded and mentally disturbed, I do not find it odd that he is trying to play ghost in the bathroom with us. Now I am going to have to walk into the boys bathroom and haul his ass out. I walk to the door of the bathroom, which is always left open and say, "Augusta you get out here right now."
Augusta doesn't have a lot left to lose if he chooses to not follow directions. His behavior chart is already full of negative comments. He is already in at recess, with no snack, and I have told him already that he will earn no stickers for the entire week. I could revoke PE and Music privileges, but he hates them anyway.
"Do I have to come in and get you? Are you gonna be a baby?" (he is 11). Augusta doesn't respond. I brace myself and enter, only to see the most vile scene possible. This is the best way I can describe it:
The garbage can is in the middle of the floor. Augusta is squatting over it, completely naked from the waste down, one leg on each side of the trash can. His shoes, socks, pants and underwear are in a pile by the sink. His back is to me, his arms are straight out in front of him, and he is taking a dump.
I immediately turn and exit. I feel absolutely violated, like I had popped a few rohypnol, chugged a beer and laid myself on the couch at Phi Delts for all to have at. I then do what I do when I can't deal with what is going on, and push the alert principal button.
He comes down and goes into the bathroom. Augusta has dressed himself, and is washing his hands furiously. There is a pile of shit in the garbage can. The principal escorts him up to the office, where Augusta has a little one-on-one with the school nurse. My aide takes the bag of shit out to the dumpster.
Augusta's mom comes and takes him home, but not before a meeting with the principal. He said she was completely embarrassed.
The school nurse came down later in the day to talk with me. Apparently, Augusta doesn't want to sit on the school toilet seat because he is afraid of getting "butt germs". He used those two words! He will go pee at school, but will not sit down. I can only wonder how many other times this year he has had to take a crap.
18: Augusta the thief:
On the last day of school prior to Christmas Break I gave all my tards a Happy Holidays card in an envelope with their name on the front. I also taped a candy cane to the front of each of the cards as well. I put the card in their "cubby" prior to the start of school. Their cubby is the last thing they check each day before school is out. They all had lots of stuff to take home, so their cubbies were quite full.
At the end of the day, as they were packing up and clearing out their cubbies, they all found their cards, yet none had the candy cane taped to them anymore. It was obvious that something had been taped on the front, because there was tape remaining on the card with part of the ripped card attached to it. But there was not one fucking candy cane to be seen. One of the tards had stolen all of the candy canes!!
Tards begin immediately whining and stomping around the classroom. This is the last thing I need. It had been a long day, the bell was about to ring, and I did not have anymore candy canes. I start looking through cubbies, backpacks, etc, yet could not find the candy canes nowhere. At this point I actually considered giving them each a buck. The only reason I didn't do this was because I didn't have the right change. And NO tard is worthy of a twenty.
My classroom has reached the chaotic stage, and only minutes before Christmas Break. I consider handing out stickers. Just then, dear Augusta comes back from the bathroom. He looks guilty as fuck, he had already unloaded his cubby, had his backpack on, and had a slight red discoloration all around his glossy lips. Hmmm.
I told him that we were missing a bunch of candy canes, and asked him if he had received a card from me, and if there was a candy cane attached to it. He gave me a dumbfounded look. I asked again, and he told me he didn't remember. I then asked him to unload his backpack. He furiously licked his lips and said that he left his library book in the library and that he needed to go get it right then. At this response, I knew that fat ass had lifted the canes.
I told him that I needed him to unload his backpack so I could make sure his card from me was in it. He refused. So I turned him around by the shoulders, which really freaks him out, unzip his backpack and find about 10 rainbow candy canes. The same ones I gave out.
Augusta had lied and stolen from his classmates. I was floored. I told him that immediately following the break he would lose a week of recess. He didn't like hearing that. In fact, he freaked. I also made him pass out candy canes and apologize to each and every retard. This went over even less well.
Just so I would not forget what the fucker had done, I wrote, in huge letters on my wipeboard- "NO RECESS AUGUSTA, ONE WEEK."
At the end of the day, as they were packing up and clearing out their cubbies, they all found their cards, yet none had the candy cane taped to them anymore. It was obvious that something had been taped on the front, because there was tape remaining on the card with part of the ripped card attached to it. But there was not one fucking candy cane to be seen. One of the tards had stolen all of the candy canes!!
Tards begin immediately whining and stomping around the classroom. This is the last thing I need. It had been a long day, the bell was about to ring, and I did not have anymore candy canes. I start looking through cubbies, backpacks, etc, yet could not find the candy canes nowhere. At this point I actually considered giving them each a buck. The only reason I didn't do this was because I didn't have the right change. And NO tard is worthy of a twenty.
My classroom has reached the chaotic stage, and only minutes before Christmas Break. I consider handing out stickers. Just then, dear Augusta comes back from the bathroom. He looks guilty as fuck, he had already unloaded his cubby, had his backpack on, and had a slight red discoloration all around his glossy lips. Hmmm.
I told him that we were missing a bunch of candy canes, and asked him if he had received a card from me, and if there was a candy cane attached to it. He gave me a dumbfounded look. I asked again, and he told me he didn't remember. I then asked him to unload his backpack. He furiously licked his lips and said that he left his library book in the library and that he needed to go get it right then. At this response, I knew that fat ass had lifted the canes.
I told him that I needed him to unload his backpack so I could make sure his card from me was in it. He refused. So I turned him around by the shoulders, which really freaks him out, unzip his backpack and find about 10 rainbow candy canes. The same ones I gave out.
Augusta had lied and stolen from his classmates. I was floored. I told him that immediately following the break he would lose a week of recess. He didn't like hearing that. In fact, he freaked. I also made him pass out candy canes and apologize to each and every retard. This went over even less well.
Just so I would not forget what the fucker had done, I wrote, in huge letters on my wipeboard- "NO RECESS AUGUSTA, ONE WEEK."
8: Meet Augusta...but don't touch him
Augusta is a new student this year. He appears very normal. He is polite, social, ordinary looking and appropriate (for the most part). The kid is even kind of intelligent. But he hates going to school and he is fucking lazy. He's missed 13 school days so far this year. And when he is present, he is late. Always. There is no exception to this.
Augusta had major issues at his last school, which is why he transferred. Basically, no one liked him there, and, well, no one likes him here. He is overweight and German and his name is Augusta (pronounced Agoostah)--just like the fat kid in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
The kid has severe issues with being touched. This classifies his needs as special, and that’s why I deal with him. During a meeting at the beginning of the school year, some co-workers and I met with his parents and his old teacher.
One thing was made abundantly clear at this meeting: DO NOT TOUCH AUGUSTA. EVER.
Don’t even brush by him, or remove a piece of lint from his hair. If you do, he goes fucking nuts and has to go home to shower and change his clothes. He is one of those "always wash my hands, afraid of germs" types. We have all heard of them, or have read about them in publications like TIME magazine. But this kid is 11. And is already a fucking head case.
Many times I have walked by the office and have seen him sitting there with his backpack, waiting for a parent to come and pick him up. I will ask the secretary if he is sick or something, and she just looks at me and says "someone touched him."
Everyone in the entire school knows not to touch him. It was even announced at an assembly prior to his coming to our school in late September.
During the middle of October we had an assembly. It was a couple of homo’s that were putting on a juggling show. The kids loved the guys; their tricks, and all the dumb shit they would say throughout the show. At one point in the assembly, the guys asked for a couple of volunteers to help them perform a stunt. Augusta shoots his hand up ,and, for the love of God, he gets chosen.
He walks up to the front of the gym, and the first thing the guys do is shake his fucking hand while introducing him to the audience. I can see the mortified look on Augusta’s face. I can tell he doesn’t know what the hell to do. The juggler guys start handing him pins and bean bags and shit. They then take him by the shoulders, turn him around so that his back is to the audience. They blindfold him, and adjust the blindfold while it is on him. I am waiting for Augusta to lose it. A touch on the hand, the shoulders, and now the FACE!! I sit there, ready to jump out of my seat, waiting for his reaction. After they blindfold him they proceed to put objects in his hand and ask him to guess what they are.
This was the boiling point. Augusta drops the object, rips off the blindfold and throws it at the jugglers. Keep in mind that the entire school, kindergarten through sixth grade, as well as staff and parents, are watching this. He then violently kicks over all these bowling pins that were lined up on stage. He rips his shirt off, throws it on the ground, yells "PEOPLE AREN'T SUPPOSE TO TOUCH ME" so fucking loud, then runs out the side door to the parking lot.
The gym is silent. Nobody knows what the fuck to do or say. The jugglers were stunned but then quickly continued the show, which shifted the attention of most of the kids.
I run out after him, along with the principal and guidance counselor. He is running down the parking lot, off of school grounds. We are all yelling at him to stop. He doesn’t. I continue to run, the counselor goes to the office to call his parents, and the principal gets in his car to drive and capture him. Somehow, I lose him. The principal can’t find him either.
About 15 minutes later, I am still looking for him, and the office receives a call. The caller says that there is a child behind her wood pile next to her house, that he looks really shaken up, doesn’t have a shirt on, and that she doesn’t want to approach him. She guesses that he is from our school. The principal drives to her home, only a half block away, and finally gets Augusta to get into the car, but not until bribing him with a fucking ice cream bar.
I am sorry that I wasn’t in the car at the time, because our principal says that Augusta gets in the car, picks up a container of Armour-All wipes on the floor, and starts furiously scrubbing his body with them. He is all worked up and out of breath, scouring himself with moistened automobile cleaning wipes.
Back at the office his parents are there to get him. They are all worried, and when they see him they are like "Oh, Augusta, we are glad you are ok, we were so worried about you." They make no mention of the fact that he cursed and exposed himself to the entire school.
About a week later, we receive a signed, 8 ½ by 11 inch color photograph of the jugglers. "To Augusta: Keep Reading! Best wishes and our Apologies."
We call Augusta down to the office to give the photo to him. He takes one look at it, tears it up, tosses the pieces in the recycle bin, and says, just like a normal fucking person, "I didn’t like that assembly, I thought you guys knew that."
Augusta had major issues at his last school, which is why he transferred. Basically, no one liked him there, and, well, no one likes him here. He is overweight and German and his name is Augusta (pronounced Agoostah)--just like the fat kid in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
The kid has severe issues with being touched. This classifies his needs as special, and that’s why I deal with him. During a meeting at the beginning of the school year, some co-workers and I met with his parents and his old teacher.
One thing was made abundantly clear at this meeting: DO NOT TOUCH AUGUSTA. EVER.
Don’t even brush by him, or remove a piece of lint from his hair. If you do, he goes fucking nuts and has to go home to shower and change his clothes. He is one of those "always wash my hands, afraid of germs" types. We have all heard of them, or have read about them in publications like TIME magazine. But this kid is 11. And is already a fucking head case.
Many times I have walked by the office and have seen him sitting there with his backpack, waiting for a parent to come and pick him up. I will ask the secretary if he is sick or something, and she just looks at me and says "someone touched him."
Everyone in the entire school knows not to touch him. It was even announced at an assembly prior to his coming to our school in late September.
During the middle of October we had an assembly. It was a couple of homo’s that were putting on a juggling show. The kids loved the guys; their tricks, and all the dumb shit they would say throughout the show. At one point in the assembly, the guys asked for a couple of volunteers to help them perform a stunt. Augusta shoots his hand up ,and, for the love of God, he gets chosen.
He walks up to the front of the gym, and the first thing the guys do is shake his fucking hand while introducing him to the audience. I can see the mortified look on Augusta’s face. I can tell he doesn’t know what the hell to do. The juggler guys start handing him pins and bean bags and shit. They then take him by the shoulders, turn him around so that his back is to the audience. They blindfold him, and adjust the blindfold while it is on him. I am waiting for Augusta to lose it. A touch on the hand, the shoulders, and now the FACE!! I sit there, ready to jump out of my seat, waiting for his reaction. After they blindfold him they proceed to put objects in his hand and ask him to guess what they are.
This was the boiling point. Augusta drops the object, rips off the blindfold and throws it at the jugglers. Keep in mind that the entire school, kindergarten through sixth grade, as well as staff and parents, are watching this. He then violently kicks over all these bowling pins that were lined up on stage. He rips his shirt off, throws it on the ground, yells "PEOPLE AREN'T SUPPOSE TO TOUCH ME" so fucking loud, then runs out the side door to the parking lot.
The gym is silent. Nobody knows what the fuck to do or say. The jugglers were stunned but then quickly continued the show, which shifted the attention of most of the kids.
I run out after him, along with the principal and guidance counselor. He is running down the parking lot, off of school grounds. We are all yelling at him to stop. He doesn’t. I continue to run, the counselor goes to the office to call his parents, and the principal gets in his car to drive and capture him. Somehow, I lose him. The principal can’t find him either.
About 15 minutes later, I am still looking for him, and the office receives a call. The caller says that there is a child behind her wood pile next to her house, that he looks really shaken up, doesn’t have a shirt on, and that she doesn’t want to approach him. She guesses that he is from our school. The principal drives to her home, only a half block away, and finally gets Augusta to get into the car, but not until bribing him with a fucking ice cream bar.
I am sorry that I wasn’t in the car at the time, because our principal says that Augusta gets in the car, picks up a container of Armour-All wipes on the floor, and starts furiously scrubbing his body with them. He is all worked up and out of breath, scouring himself with moistened automobile cleaning wipes.
Back at the office his parents are there to get him. They are all worried, and when they see him they are like "Oh, Augusta, we are glad you are ok, we were so worried about you." They make no mention of the fact that he cursed and exposed himself to the entire school.
About a week later, we receive a signed, 8 ½ by 11 inch color photograph of the jugglers. "To Augusta: Keep Reading! Best wishes and our Apologies."
We call Augusta down to the office to give the photo to him. He takes one look at it, tears it up, tosses the pieces in the recycle bin, and says, just like a normal fucking person, "I didn’t like that assembly, I thought you guys knew that."
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