So by now you know that I have to mix in some humor every couple of blog posts, and I have a real treat for you today. Unlike many teachers who anxiously await summertime so they can relax, vacation, and simply take it easy, I'm a bit different. Don't get me wrong, I love the much needed break as much as the next teacher, but I discovered after my first year of teaching that I would have to have something to do over the summer or I would quickly lose my mind. This summer I'm spending my days with grad school, prepping for next year as I'm moving from the 7th to the 8th grade, and I also work at a private tutoring company part time. It is at this very tutoring place that the incredible armpit incident took place.
So in walks this 8 year old student that I will call Clyde. He was there to be helped with reading, and the first 30 minutes he was at my table was absolutely wonderful. Given the fact that my luck with tutoring students under the age of 10 typically test my patience to its very limits, things were going really well. At the 31 minute mark,however, everything went completely haywire in Clyde's world. For reasons I'm still trying to figure out Clyde, without warning, leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the table spread as far apart as possible and began making really wierd motions. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say that they were motions that no 8 year boy should be making. By the way, there were 2 other students sitting with me at the same table that of course happen to be female.
Once that situation was resolved he settled back down briefly. A few minutes later out of the corner of my eye I saw a commotion. When I looked towards Clyde he was sitting there with the entire left side of his T- shirt up around his neck and was ferociously scratching his armpit like a contractor sanding drywall. It was then that the following conversation happened between myself and Clyde...
Me: Dude, what are you doing?
Clyde: Man my armpit itches real bad.
Me: Well I'm sorry about that, but you need to keep your shirt on in here.
Clyde: (after putting his shirt down) I think I got bit by a spider.
Me: Do you want to call someone?
Clyde: Nah
He then spent the next hour and 15 minutes scratching his armpit and making the strangest faces a human can make. Every once in awhile I would check again to see if he wanted to call home, but each time he said he was fine. To add to the insanity of this bizarre 2 hours of my life, he would not stop talking. During our final hour together I informed him we were going to play the quiet game at our table, and that the winner would win a prize. For 2 short and glorious minutes I had a quiet table and no wild armpit scratching. At 2 minutes and 1 second and for the remainder of our time together he asked me the following question every 30 seconds...
"Am I winning the quiet game?"
My reaction was a mix between wanting to see how far I could actually throw an 8 year old across the room, and wandering how quickly I could throw myself off the tallest building in town.
hahaha
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