The Underwear Post

Last Friday night, David brought home donuts for the children to partake of Saturday morning.  On Saturday morning, I walk into the kitchen and find Little Dude.

He is standing in the kitchen, in his jammies, with a donut in each hand.

Little Dude: Hi, Mom!  I’m not wearing any underwear!

I look at him.  I know he WAS wearing underwear at some point in the last 24 hours . . .

Me:  Where’s your underwear?

LD:  Um . . . . I think I put them in the freezer!

Me:  What?  Why?

LD:  Because I wanted to see if they would melt!

Me:  Just so we are clear, it is never, ever ok to put your underwear in the freezer.

LD:  But I-

Me:  Nope.

That kid.  My mom bought the boys boxers.  Because she likes to mess with me.  My boys do not understand the concept of boxers.  Little Dude wears them over his tighty-whities.  And, fun fact, Little Dude wears Handsome Dude’s underwear, because he lacks cognitive thinking skills, and the underwear are too big, so they stretch about a mile above the boxers.  And the boxers are also pulled above the pants.

He is always looking fab.

Oh!  He also puts underwear and boxers under his swim shorts.  True story.

***

I am still teaching 6th grade and it is completely kicking my butt.  I can’t even try to sugar coat it-I am exhausted beyond belief.  They are a strange  breed, 6th graders.  Here are some fun comments I have heard:

“Mrs. M, your hair looks really weird today and it is distracting me.  I cannot focus.”

“I could tell your daughter was your daughter because you both walk really weird.”

My goodness.  And then there are those moments. . . . you know, where you think you are being all teach-er-iffic and inspiring?  When you are in the middle of imparting knowledge upon them, and a hand shoots up, and you are certain a connection has been made and a life has been changed?  And then the commenter says:

“I am glad we are learning history today, Mrs. M.  It reminds me that I need to watch The Big Bang Theory tonight, because it is a historical show.”

Um, no.

And then another day . . .

“Mrs. M, is there a Mr. M?”

(This was not the answer to the math problem that I had hoped for)

Me:  Yes.

Student:  What is his name?

Me:  David

Then the student gazes out the window and says-

“David and Taylor . . . Taylor and David . . . . ”

And I have to try to use all my strength and might to pull said student back to the math lesson and NOT on me and my husband’s first names.

And while trying to get them to BE QUIET while walking in the halls-

“Mrs. M?   Do you shape your eyebrows?”

Me:  shhhh!

Student:  I am thinking of shaping my eyebrows.

Me:  Stop talking, please!

Student:  It looks like you do something weird with your eyebrows.

Teaching is hard, people.  6th grade is hard.

And there are 19 school days left, baby.

19.