Party Day

The other day I got slapped in the face. The assailant fits the description of most criminals, he's a second grader named "Harry."

I guess it was a rite of passage. I mean,  every teacher gets slapped by a student at some point right?

Harry suffering from excitement violence on a field trip

Wrong.

In fairness it wasn't like Harry ran up to me and tried to attack the teacher, he just kind of had an excitement freakout and I happened to be in proximity. This kid can't control his limbs when he gets too happy and it was a happy day. Well it was supposed to be a happy day, but I ruined it.

I ruined Party Day.

"Party Day" comes about once every few months, if a class behaves consistently well enough to earn it. My second graders, without a doubt the star class at school, have earned quite a few of these. Even as Party Day veterans they still revel at the opportunity to eat snacks and watch English movies.

But then they started to push it. "Teacha Cookie Party Day?" Whoa take it easy guys I never mentioned cookies. 

Before I could veto the idea they were chanting "coo-kies, coo-kies" and I had no choice but to give in to an unprecedented "Cookie Party Day."

Now this is a big deal in the life of an elementary aged child, and I asked my co-teacher to help provide the cookies while I'd take care of the movie and other snacks. He agreed.

The days leading up to Cookie Party Day were intense. I couldn't have a conversation with one of the second graders without them mentioning chocolate chips. They were so excited they started to give me presents. A few students even brought me movie tickets (pictured left).

They were very happy and proud to give me the tickets, but I was moderately disappointed to receive them. I mean thanks kids but this plot looks terrible.

Finally the big day came and I biked to school early for last minute preparations. Most second graders stopped by the English room an hour before class just to set up their snacks. 


Harry was one of the exceptions, casually strolling in right as the bell rang. I say bell but it's more of a techno jingle, and its not as bizarre as the classical music that plays in our bathrooms. The classical music is not as bizarre as the fact students wave to me while I'm in the bathroom, because the doors are glass.

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Anyway I had no idea why Harry came late or how he forgot about the big day, but he was hanging out near my desk when I reminded him about the cookie party. His face lit up...and that's when it happened. He just lost control and struck me somewhere near the nose with the whole class watching.

I'm not typically a mean teacher, but as my insta-rage took over those poor kids saw a different side of their English teacher. Within seconds Harry was hysterical in the hallway while the class was trying to wrap their heads around the event. I think this is when I received news that my co-teacher had abruptly gone on a business trip, meaning he would be absent, and more significantly meaning the cookies would be absent. 

I had to leave Harry crying in the hallway in order to deal with fifteen others about to cry in the classroom, then I had to tell them there were not going to be any cookies on cookie day.

"Teacha."...
"Teacha why?!"...
"Bad teacha."...
"A-dik teacha hate cookies."...
"Why you hate cookies teacha?"...

Yes I prefer salts over sweets but I do not hate cookies. No one tells me I hate cookies. Thank you for using English though.

At this point it's getting very uncomfortable inside the English room. Cookie Party Day involved no cookies, and consisted only of Youtube cartoons playing while every student angrily stared at me instead of the screen.

Eventually Harry returned under the agreement that he would apologize to the teacher and his classmates. He sat motionless at his desk while a few of the less violent students tried to force feed him chips. Harry loves food but his mouth wouldn't open. Every forced bite would just crumple on his closed lips and collect on the desk in front of him. This continued for the last ten minutes of class. Cookie Party Day ended, my second graders somberly left school, and I haven't seen them since.

Harry enjoying cookie day. This picture was only taken in attempt to get him to stop staring at me.

Welp, next week should be fun.