Back to School Night

Last night was Back to School Night, an event I usually dread. :shark: You never know what you’ll get. I’ve had parents hunt me down thirty minutes before it starts to try and get an impromptu conference. I’ve had others who wanted to give excuses for why their child didn’t do their work. :blahblah: Still others try to pin me down at the end and give me their life’s history. :duh: But I have to say, last night was probably one of the better ones. It might have had something to do with the fact that I hid in another teacher’s classroom with the door locked until five minutes before it started. :banana:

In any case, I gave my spiel and I did my lottery drawing. I talked about the history warm-up question of the day (yesterday’s was about the group of folks who rushed into Oklahoma to steal land before the others) and I drew a number out of a hat. The parent who was sitting at that desk number had a chance to win if they knew the answer. They guessed Sooners and won a Parent’s Night Off pass. Basically it’s a homework extension pass giving the child one extra day. The parents were so funny. One turned to the winner and said, “I’ll give you $50 for that.” Another threw her hands in the air when she won and yelled, “YES!” :jumping:
There wasn’t a huge turnout, which surprised me, but it was a good group of parents.

Earlier in the evening, I had to wrangle with the installation/delivery people who didn’t get in touch with me at work and subsequently I have to wait until SATURDAY for my new dishwasher. :banghead: I believe they heard my primal scream of, “Noooooooooo!!!!!” all the way down to Virginia Beach. 4 more days of washing dishes by hand. I would have thrown myself off a cliff if I lived in pioneer days. The medieval castle folk had it right–let’s eat off pieces of old bread and then give the “dishes” to the poor. :thumbsup:

Last night I hit page 261 in revisions. 100 pages left. And I think (fingers crossed) this segment will be an easy one because it doesn’t have any major flaws–just tweaking. After that, I’ll e-mail it off to England and slowly turn into a melted ball of nerves as each day passes.

Finally, we had more fish casualties. Let’s all cue the Queen music–”Another One Bites the Dust…” :headbang: Michelle, the Fish Serial Killer, strikes again. The Tank of Death reigns supreme!