Shoe Licking

As I embarked on my teaching career, I had thoughts of things that I hoped, but doubted, would happen: winning the national Teacher of the Year, having students make spectacular gains (like 10 years worth) or getting a visit from Ed McMahon bearing a giant check (prior to his death, of course, although I can't say that I would turn a zombie Ed McMahon with a giant check away).

I thought of things that I hoped would never happen: having a student arrive with obvious signs of abuse, being accused of something I didn't do or showing up to work in only my underwear.

It was during my second year of teaching 6th graders that I learned that there are somethings for which you simply can't prepare. There I was, standing at the front of the room, you know, teaching, when I saw Ashley* licking her shoe.

So I did what any self-respecting teacher would do, I asked her what she was doing.

Me: What are you doing?!?

Ashley: (looking at me as though I was an idiot) Licking my shoe.

Me: (stammering) Why?!?

Ashley: (speaking to me as though I was an idiot) It's dirty.

Me: (speechless)

Teaching is many things, but one thing it is not is dull. Just ask Ashley, if you can get the shoe out of her mouth long enough to answer.

*Name changed to protect the immaturely disgusting or the disgustingly immature.

Welcome to Topekaish

The lovely city of Topeka recently installed a lovely sign a couple of miles south of me to welcome one and all to the incorporated area of the capital.

This new daily reminder of my location has encouraged me to begin referring to the city in my mailing address as "Topekaish." I think it fits.

I've always known that I lived outside of the city and it really doesn't bother me. In fact, having grown up in an unincorporated part of a city in Florida, I'm aware that there are distinct advantages of not having a proper city to call home. I don't have to pay as many taxes, I don't have to worry about mowing my lawn or shoveling my sidewalks.