Gems, all of them. Gems.

UH OH

"Ms. Moore, can I go to the bathroom?"

"We're about to take a test; can you wait?"

"I guess... but if it starts to smell bad in here, I'm gonna have to go."

As I was passing out the quizzes, this student held his hand up and said, "Just a minute."  Then a very concentrated look came over his face, and he seemed to be bracing himself.

Finally, I had to say, "Dude, if you have to go to the bathroom that badly, then just go."

His reply was, "What?... Oh no, I was just about to sneeze..."

What was I supposed to think?? At least the class got a laugh out of that one.


DESCRIPTIVE WRITING
On the board, I wrote the following words: red, happy, sad, long, short, funny, and nice.  The instructions I gave to students were to write more descriptive words for each, retaining the same meaning.  Then, once they had generated a more descriptive list, they were supposed to come up with even more descriptive words.  This was my favorite list of words, verbatim:

Red: really red, really bright red
Happy: super happy, really super happy
Sad: kinda sad, like super sad
Long: crazy long, really long (wait, would crazy long be more descriptive than really long?)
Short: stubby, my mom
Funny: really funny, super funny
Nice: really super nice, Ms. Moore (cuz she'll still give me credit for this assignment even though I was goofing off. It is almost Christmas)

Is it any wonder this student has yet to pass the state writing test? It's obvious that he is a literary genius. What a shame.

ORIGINALITY?

"Chris, I said your story had to be a page long."
"Really? This isn't good enough?"
"Considering you still have 10 lines on the bottom of your page, I'd say no."
"Can I borrow some scis--wait, I have some."

He then cut the bottom portion off his paper and handed it to me. If no other students had seen him, I might have let him get away with it.  But they did see, and I didn't want them following suit, so I made him rewrite it.  I'm a very nice teacher.

I'm on a prank show, huh?

Some of the gems I've heard from students this week...

Student: When I enter my name into the spellchecker, it says "You've made a mistake."
Me: At least it doesn't say, "You're parents made a mistake."
Student: (Blank stare.... blank stare... light bulb!) Oh... hahaha... That's pretty funny.

Student: I know you're not supposed to help me because this is an on-demand essay, but is this long enough? (show me laptop screen with what appears to be four sentences separated into four paragraphs)
Me: Well, you could always remember how many sentences are supposed to make up each paragraph.
Student: Oh yea... three to five... But if I add any more on, it'll just, like, make them run-ons, you know?
Me: I didn't say add onto the sentences. How many paragraphs should you have?
Student: Five; intro, three body, and conclusion... But I only have four.
Me: Exactly.
Student: (looking at me like I am the one who is confused) Well, I'm writing my essay about pencils. So I'm not really sure what else you want me to write about...
Me: You were told to write about an important invention, and since you chose pencils out of ALL inventions EVER, it seems you thought you'd have at least three good, strong points to make about this important invention.
Then she just walked away, back to her world.

Student: What score do I need to get to pass?
Me: 236.
Student: So I passed??
Me: You got a 235... so...
Student: Yea, but you said if we were within a few points, they'd give it to us.
Me: No, I said they'd give you another try.
Student: ........I don't get it.
Me: You can take the test again?
Student: ..... That's stupid.

Student: Is this written in a different language?
Me: What?... No. Why would I give you something written in a different language?
Student: Are you being serious? Can anyone else read this?
Other students:... Yea...
Student: I think you're all lying. I don't even know what this letter is (points at paper).
Me: It's an "s"... a cursive "s."
Student: Oh... I don't know cursive.


These are all teenagers aged 15-19. Sometimes I am convinced I am on a prank show, and somebody is going to jump out and say "Gotcha!" when I look so surprised by my students remarks.

You think my kids will be sarcastic?

I have recently decided that I am raising my children to be incredibly sarcastic.  It's like the one thing that is passed down from generation to generation in my household. And as long as they respect at the same time, I like to trick myself into thinking their sarcastic mindsets will be beneficial to them as they age. I know that if I couldn't make light of things most of the time, I'd have gone insane a long time ago. 

So here are some of the most recent pieces of conversational gold between my children and me. It's starting to get hard to see who is more sarcastic: me or my children... (Keep in mind, Rylianne is 6 and Ethan is 9).

Me: Rylianne, stop being a brat to your friend. She is your guest.
Rylianne: Do I look like a brat?
Me: Yes. Knock it off.
Rylianne furrowed her brow really hard and then tried to muster a smile to show me she could not look like a brat if she so choose.

Ethan: Mom, I'm hungry.
Me: Ethan, you ate at the exact same time as I did. I'm sure you can wait till dinner and not die from starvation.
Ethan: Yea, but my food metabolizes faster than yours, so it's not fair to make me wait so long.
Me: How old are you?
Ethan: You tell me.
Me: What nine year old tells their mom they must eat because of faster metabolism?
Ethan: Me. I learned it in school... or mythbusters. So you should feed me.
Me: You know how to make Ramen. If you'd rather cook us all dinner, the chicken is almost defrosted.
Ethan: Ugh... I'll just watch tv so I don't use any more energy because of how starving I am.
Me: Yea, thought so.

Me: Ethan, please stop talking. You're just digging a bigger hole.
Ethan: I can talk. It's my mouth.
Me: Right now, it's my mouth, seeing as you are nine, and if you don't shut it, I'm probably going to get very angry.
Ethan: You can't make me. (At this point, I'm pretty sure laser beams shot out of my eyes in his direction, as his eyes widened, his mouth shut, and he walked out of the room.)

Earlier this summer when Rylianne was five:
 Rylianne: Mama, that's peculiar.
Me: What did you just say??
Rylianne: Peculiar... duh.
Me: Do you know what that word even means?
Rylianne: Yea, Mama, duh... It means strange and funny. I thought you would in particular would know what it means.
Me: What? Whose kid are you???
Rylianne: Yours, mama. Geez.  (Said with a very serious look on her face)

Driving in car, kids in backseat.
Ethan: Rylianne if you do that, you could get really hurt or die.
Rylianne: No, I'm safe.
Ethan: It doesn't matter. That's dangero--
Rylianne: Ethan, stop being so dramatic.
Ethan: What? I'm not.
Long pause...
Rylianne: Mama, what does dramatic mean?
Me: Apparently, it means exactly what you think it means.