I’m a fourth grade teacher and my students are learning about colonialism. Our in depth discussions about slavery are great. They ask a lot of questions and I answer them as best I can. And tomorrow we are making butter in a jar. An appropriate way for kids to experience colonial life. Butter.

It’s been many years since I read it, but I THINK that in the novel, one of the character’s dad is a trainspotter and is frequently asking his son to come along with him.

But every once in a while we would get people coming in and asking if we sold the separate ingredients for them to take home and cook themselves.

Or a “gluten free” label on a plain ol’ bag of fresh, uncooked, unprocessed, normal raw potatoes. THEY’RE POTATOES.

Of course I’m rude. I live in Missouri. We blind people with bread.

My elementary school bullies actually DID end up in a lot of trouble. The biggest bully I had has been in and out of rehab (and court) for hardcore drug addiction. She used to come in to Target senior year of high school when I worked as a cashier and would buy pants a size bigger than me, which I took great joy in…

It’s definitely not a rude-on-purpose thing. It’s more of a friendly toss from across the restaurant than an aggressive hurl. The place is big and packed. You order your meat and then you sides get delivered by the scoopful throughout the meal. It sounds horrific, but you know..middle of Missouri...outstanding…

Yep. It’d be like being hit with the rounded side of a croissant. In other words, THE DELICIOUS SIDE.

And that is why I just went to Florida for a week with only this and a purse:

When I was in college in Chicago, my roommates and I drove to Wheaton to see Nickel Creek play on campus. It was one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had at a concert. The floor of the auditorium was filled with Wheaton students, and then non-students were sitting in a small balcony overlooking the auditorium.…

Also my initial reaction.

When I was about seven, my mom (age 31) decided to take her mother (61), my two sisters (2 and 5), two cousins (9 and 10), and babysitter (13) up to Michigan from Missouri in the family company’s Trans Van.

This story belongs to a friend. Friend and her husband chose to save their top tier for their first anniversary. Said top tier was stored in their freezer for a year. First anniversary rolls around, they take the cake out to enjoy it, cut a piece....and it’s styrofoam. They’d been storing styrofoam in the freezer for…

Oh boy. I second (third? fourth? tenth?) the eyeliner thing. Can’t. Do. It. I also mess up my mascara all the time. My eyeshadow attempts look completely ridiculous. I have absolutely no artistic talent and terrible fine motor skills, NOT TO MENTION bad vision in one eye, so I can’t see when I’m trying to line my…

I teach first grade, a group of now-seven-year-olds, and they put EVERYTHING in their mouths. I spent MOST of the day telling kids to either take things out of their mouths or to take their hands out of their pants. And they are not developmentally delayed. It’s irritating but normal.

The best:

“Incarcerated” is an excellent word for it.

I feel like I should start a Behind Closed Classrooms blog...I could fill a book with teaching horror stories. I'm sure others could as well.