...lest the Missing One decides to embarrass three generations of teachers in the family and fires off an ignorant email suggesting that she be given an extension on her term paper because she had to keep her nail appointment.
In other education news, I will be on leave next week to take an entry level education methodology class. I've only been teaching for 23 years.
I'm not sure I know what to make of that, but I'm not going with anyone entertaining, so I think I'll have to behave.
Perhaps I'll develop endless scenarios for classroom management. I'm afraid I won't have to make up any of them, and I imagine none of it will be covered in the manual. After all, how does one address a young lady in hip huggers when she ought not to wear anything other than a muu-muu, and gently suggest that she wear a tent because she is mooning the entire back row of students?
Or attempt to engage a Dolly Partonesque woman who has her name, in script, tatooed across her abundant cleavage?
Or try to understand a Flava Flave wannabe, who can't articulate past the grillz in his mouf.
Alas, all true incidents. None in the theory manuals. And that was just today.