Don’t touch that school day! You don’t know where that school day’s been.
It could have been in all kinds of trouble. Could have been hanging out with undesirables. Acting the big shot. Racking up detention. Some school days, like puny fish, you want to throw back.
With school starting this week, the innocent elementary students, the ones not yet broken in on how the real school-world works, might find comfort in knowing that we’ve been there. If they say or act as if they’ve had a bad day at school, they probably actually have, and it’s not necessarily their fault. Life happens, both in the elementary and grown-up worlds. Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug.
Offer support and remember from your own experience some of the worst things that can happen during a day at elementary school:
It rains out recess.
You have a substitute but the substitute makes you “do something.”
Your “girlfriend” gives you your Tiger eye ring back, and she does it through another friend because she doesn’t have the guts to face you. Or because she just can’t stand the sight of you anymore. This after you almost got a stomach ulcer the day you asked her to be your girlfriend. Which was Tuesday. And this is Thursday. It was fun while it lasted.
The good news: You beat your big brother in “Madden” last night. The bad news: you forgot you had a spelling test today. Anybody know how to spell separate? Is it “seperate” or “saperate” or did I have it right the first time? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
You get shorted a fish stick at lunch.
Your best friend is absent, probably at home playing “Madden” and eating fish sticks.
You get caught passing notes and the teacher picked it up before you were even finished so all you’d written was, “This is the most boring class in the world and our teacher is stup…”
You get a bad seat on the school bus.
Nobody throws up. Or worse, you were in the bathroom when somebody DID throw up, so you missed it. Somebody throwing up can carry you along, conversation-wise, for weeks and sometimes for months, depending on who threw and where.
You left your homework, which you actually completed, at home. The teacher might have actually believed you if you hadn’t got caught passing that note. Sigh…
You got a scuff mark on your new Converse.
Your new Converse are rubbing a blister on your heel.
Somebody threw up on your new Converse.
You threw up on your new Converse.
You found out from a friend that your parents know something that you did that you didn’t think they knew. Busted.
You just remembered you have to mow your English teacher’s grass after you get home. Oh, the humanity!
You thought it was 11:20 but you’d looked at the clock wrong and it’s only 10:20.
Lost your best pencil.
You find out in sixth period that you’ve had a piece of breakfast on your face all day, including when you saw your ex-girlfriend at lunch, who was with the new kid and who looked at you like you had turnips growing out of your nostrils.
You’re walking into science class and the smart kid walking out is crying and mumbling something about “isomeric structure.” Help me Oprah!
You’ve heard about it. You’ve dreaded it. And now, it’s here: long division.
You realize it’s only the third week in August.