A while back the NZ Police had an recruiting campaign, urging potential applicants to Get Better Work Stories . I have to say, I was tempted. As you all know, I have a penchant for dressing up and the idea of a police uniform in my closet is a huge draw card for me. But with cats, a dog, chickens, children and Beloved to consider I ended up getting a job at a high school instead. It's great. Every day is different. I work with a fabulous team and there's always something exciting going on.
I love my job. At least, that's what I kept telling myself in Technology class yesterday. We have a particularly "feisty" (for want of a word that I can't print here) class of Year 9 kids that just can't seem to leave all those lovely power tools alone. A request was made for Teacher Aide support so Smiley and I tossed a coin. When it wasn't going my way, I suggested the best of three. When Lady Luck smiled I felt guilty. So Smiley and I ended up going to the class together. When I had to stop a kid from shoving a large, pointy object up another kid's nether regions, I began to wonder if the Police Force might have been easier. Both Smiley and I needed a strong cup of tea and quite possibly a lie down after that little session.
So today I was blessed with another riotous group for Art class. Actually, it wasn't too bad today. Three of the boys had been stood down so it was just minor pandemonium as opposed to chaotic anarchy. Apart from a couple of boys (who suggested I should make a vocational change to Exotic Dancing - not sure whether they meant it as an insult or a compliment), things were going pretty well and some good work was beginning to happen. It even got quite peaceful when the boys who suggested the career change legged it out the fire exit.
The thing about an Art classroom is that there's a lot of interesting stuff about the room which to a bunch of hyped up kids, is overwhelmingly tantalizing. The teacher told them to leave the driftwood, the branches, the bone...they just wouldn't listen. Before long, two boys had shoved the bone over their heads. Just between you and me, it looked pretty good on them. Purpose-made. It even had eye holes and ear flaps. Just quietly, I was impressed. Even so, I spoke up:
"Boys! Put it down. Leave things alone!"
Naturally I was completely ignored. So it gave me extreme pleasure to give them a little anatomy lesson.
"Do you have any idea what you've been putting on your head?"
The teacher and I exchanged a knowing glance and tried (unsuccessfully) to stifle some giggles. After a few guesses, the kids were able to work out that the bone came from a big animal, most probably a cow. Clever kids.
"So...which PART of the cow do you think it is?"
I had to spell that bit out for them. but in case you're wondering, here's a clue:
|Not sure if Carmen was meant for this either!|
I would say it was just as well that the cow was dead at the time of head insertion. Otherwise, the poor bovine creature would have had the shock of its life.
|Surprised (but disturbingly happy) cow|
So, even on a bad day, I love my job. And if there's anybody out there who doesn't love their job, just remember that it could be worse. MUCH worse. Next time I have to rescue a kid from a chisel up the jaksy, I'll spare a thought for this guy: