More Like Spicoli, Less Like Mr. Hand

First day of school is complete. I think that I get even more nuts from year to year. The looks on their faces all say, "This guy is our teacher?" I'm not even sure how to quantify these statements other than it just cracks me up that I'm a teacher sometimes. The whole attitude in the first hour is like "What's up dudes, ready to have some fun?" I felt like Spicoli without the gnarly vocabulary. I'm not sure if I'm making any sense at all with this.

Let's see. The day began when I found out that the sibling (who was supposed to be in my class) of the kid who dressed up as P Diddy for Halloween (Russian - Americans love love love P Diddy) a few years back in my class will not be coming back to the school. In his place, I might be getting a new kid next week who might or might not speak English. Not that there's anything wrong with that but our school isn't really prepared for that and I sure as hell don't speak Portugese. I suppose that Spicoli wouldn't worry too much about such things.

Nevermind him though because I have a kid in my class who's mom is a friend of a good friend of mine. Cool enough already, right? But even better, he reminds me of Kelly Leak as a third grader.

The day ended with a kid crying in the bathroom because he was mortified that the Girl Who Dressed as a Bumblebee in the Brooklyn Nutcracker last December walked in on him in the bathroom. It seems that he forgot to lock the door. She knocked. He didn't respond. She opened the door and then promptly closed it. He locked himself in the bathroom because he said that everyone knew about it now and he was so embarrassed. I coaxed him out of the bathroom and sent him on his way.

Teaching never gets old.