nut-free

As is probably common knowledge by now, most schools around here are nut-free. Of course I am aware of this fact. However, being myself, I tend to be somewhat forgetful. So I'm wandering the halls on duty one day during nutrition break (yes, for you non-education people out there, it's called nutrition break, not lunch), while the kids are eating. Trying to be the nutrition-conscious person that I'm not, I'm eating trail mix. Delicious. One kid says to me, "what's in there?", eying the bag in what I took to be a curious way. I think, how nice. What a friendly kid trying to make conversation with the supply teacher. "Oh, y'know, peanuts, almonds, raisins, cranberries..." I inform him, smiling pleasantly. It quickly becomes clear that neither curiosity nor friendliness have sparked this conversation. "You're not allowed to have nuts in school," he states flatly. ... gasp ... A few more pairs of eyes are added to his, curious and condemning, wondering what I'm going to say next. What do I say next? I go with the ever popular, "yeah...I know". I do know! I just forgot! I quickly exit the classroom and hide my face in shame. What an idiot! How could I forget that you can't eat nuts!! Nevermind, eating them while walking from classroom to classroom, spreading the deadly evidence all over the school!! Needless to say, I have been sufficiently embarrassed to ensure that I will never eat nuts at a school again.

Attack of the HOBO!!

So I'm doing a standard classroom clean-up with a grade four class. Two students leave the portable to dump the recycling. Slowly rumour gets back to the class that there's a "hobo" outside. Yes, a hobo. As in, a person who is without a home. Panic is stricken into the hearts of some, while others, overcome with curiousity go tearing OUT of the portable. Yes, without any apparent thought whatsoever, half of my class goes running out the door. I am in complete shock. What on earth could they possibly be thinking? Of course I run out to the porch, stand shivering in the freezing cold and scream at the top of my lungs "GET BACK HERE!!". A few of them turn around and come back. Others run into the school and still others are already out of sight. Back in the portable, the more imaginative ones in the group are striking terror into the hearts of anyone willing to listen..."He jumped out at me and I screamed and ran away!", "What if he has a gun!!", "What if he's coming to shoot us all!!", "Do you think we'll have to stay here over night?"....

Eventually all of the stray students trickle back into the classroom and we "meet on the carpet" for a stern talking-to. "First of all, in any type of emergency, you do NOT run OUT of the portable TOWARDS the apparent danger!!" and so on. You get the idea.

It was basically completely ridiculous. I promptly reported the whole thing to the principal, just in case she got any phone calls from worried parents wondering about the alleged gunman at the school...

post the first

Hello people. Well, I have thought many times about having a blog, and I'm still not sure it's a good idea. However, I think that having a specific topic like this will help. So, on with the show!

My first story is not the first one that happened to me, but I feel that it must come first, to explain the name. As you might know, Mrs. Driftwood is not my real name. It's Mrs. Sherwood. But in a junior kindergarten class, what does real really mean? They're too little to be able to remember something as tricky as Sherwood. So, a bunch of kids were calling me Mrs. Woods (an obviously simpler alternative), and one particularly adorable one was calling me Mrs. Driftwood (not at all simple, and in fact quite surprising - you wouldn't even expect a four year old to know the word driftwood!). It was hilarious. Too hilarious and cute to correct, so it continued on throughout the day. And now it's stuck...at least in bloggerland. Of course there was also the kid who would scream out in frustration from across the room "It's Mrs. Sherwood!!"