Mused the kindergarten-aged me. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I held those hopes until I was well into my teens. And had some sense knocked into me. No offense to you teachers, but that ain’t no job I want the parts of. (Just to clarify, I never actually wanted to be an English teacher)
I also don’t want you to think that I don’t like kids. Because I do. So very much. As a matter of fact I think that if one more person in my church has a baby before me, I’m going to scream! They’re all just so cute and cuddly. And yeah, I know they puke and poop, and eventually talk back and after that they abandon you to go off and pursue a life of their own, but right now all I want is to have a little 7-pounder to hang out with. (ok, if I’m being realistic, it’ll probably be a 10-pounder. my husband and I are giants)
So anyway, I used to want to be a teacher. And guess what dear internets? Today I had the priveledge of being just that. A teacher! There is, of course, a background story to all of this.
Y’see, the associate pastor at my church (also the man who was at one time my youth pastor) and his wife are adopting an adorable little baby from another continent. I’m not so sure how much information I can disclose, so that’s all your getting outta me.
Well, adoption is a pretty crazy procedure. There’s tons of paperwork and politics, especially with an international adoption. So, the wife teaches a couple of co-op classes every Thursday for our home-schooled kids, and today she also had to turn over the last of the important paperwork. In person. Now, she is the associate pastor’s wife, but I’m here to tell you, even she can’t be in two places at once. So, she asked me to fill in for her, or you know, substitute. And I did.
The first class was my cup of tea. It was US Geography and Presidents. I’m super-into History and the like, so I was all about it. Her only major rule for me? “Don’t let any boys sit next to each other.” Because they are Junior-Highers. This is, for all intents and purposes, the worst age group ever invented. I won’t even want my own children at this age. They’re rammy, rude, and just plain disrespectful. Ick. I’m also pretty sure that they have cooties.
But I dealt just fine. During the class, I had to deal out a few “Shhhh” and “Pay attention” and “Wes, stop talking to Hunter!”, but other than that, it wasn’t too bad.
The afternoon class was a completely different story. And it wasn’t even the kids who were the problem, it was the class itself. Y’see, while I enjoy going back in time and learning about how democrats have been idiots pretty much since the inception of the party, I don’t so much enjoy other classes, like say, art. And that was the second class of the day.
Art is subjective. I don’t do well with subjective. Anything that you have to “interperet” or have talent for (with the exception of scrapbooking), I pretty much suck at. So when kids would come up to me and ask how to take a picture of “form” I was just as good to them as a peer. It’s a good thing one of their peers did sort of know what was going on, because without him, they were otherwise screwed.
As happy as I was to fill in for my friend, I don’t think I’ll be running out any time soon to pursue any kind of teaching degree.
Unless I could teach “Stupid Democrats – Subjective Subjects were clearly their idea – and other issues”.