Like, any.
Elias is chubby, but called another girl in my class fat for asking for a second orange and made her cry. Elias runs down the hallway looking like a cross between Napoleon Dynamite and a very old woman, but swears he "rules the court" in basketball and trash talks anyone in my class who says differently. Elias is the last one to follow directions or cooperate, but insists on being first for any kind of reward or incentive.
And today, Elias spilled an entire carton of milk on his lap.
He had already been having a bad day in my class. He walked in class long after the bell rang, then raised the pitch of his voice about four octaves when I told him I heard the bell, and he was late. "You're deaf, then!" he shouted. I said "WHAT?" about forty times before telling him to sign the tardy log.
Elias pouted about that for a while, but soon decided that pouting was insufficient and morphed into Elias, Destructor of Happiness. When one of my students began telling me about her new niece, Elias yelled, "You think you all that 'cause you got a NIECE? I got fifteen, real talk." Then after tripping my most docile student on her way to the trash can and informing my class that a different female student of mine was probably asking to go to the bathroom so that she could "take out her teeth and clean them in the toilet" (???), Elias was primed and ready for a write-up. Suddenly, Elias produced a carton of milk leftover from breakfast from his backpack and opened it.
"I know you're not about to drink that milk, sir."
Elias took a sip. He raised one eyebrow defiantly. I'd had enough.
"Put the milk down and wait for me outside," I said with all the controlled fury of Teacher Voice.
Then, something magical happened when Elias stood up. Somehow, the milk on his desk didn't simply knock over and spill, but flew. It flew, and, in flight, projected its contents directly onto Elias's lap. Immediately, he was standing, arms raised with the palms of his hands facing me, the very posture of surrender, with a dark milky stain running from his crotch down to his knees. His face looked exactly like this, the thought of which is making me laugh even as I type this:
My class howled. One of my students, who is constantly teased by Elias for being obese as well as an English language-learner, practically screamed with excitement, "ELIAS PISSED HIS PANTS!!! LOOK EVERYBODY!!" I was practically biting through my upper lip to avoid smiling, but finally got it together.
"Settle down, everyone. Elias, go to the restroom." He stumbled awkwardly to the doorway and ran out.
During the next class (which is my off period), I called Elias's mom to explain what happened and suggest she bring a clean pair of pants up to the school. I've spoken to her many times about her son's behavior, and luckily she is very supportive of me and the rest of his teachers. She's really funny, too.
"Ms. Smith, I have one last question," I said. "Do I have permission to remind Elias of the milk incident the next time he makes fun of another classmate?"
"Girl, you didn't even need to ask. Hell, you can call him 'Two Percent' til June if you want."
Happy Friday.
Love,
Teach
P.S. In case you are worried about Elias's feelings, I went to check on him an hour later and he was already back to his normal self, joyfully swatting the legs of hallway passersby with a cable tie.
