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Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Sometimes I want to punch the tree.

Every year, the teachers of a special ed. student meet with the parent/guardian/distant relative/bookie/dealer to discuss the child's progress in his or her individual goals. I like to invite the student in question to the meeting because who likes to be talked about behind his back? Once in a while, the parent is tempted to turn the whole meeting into a discussion of last week's incident of little Johnny, little Susie, the blender, and the disillusioned frog. Recently, I conducted such a meeting in which the parents decided to dust off their soap boxes and complain how their son will NEVER meet any of these goals, so what's the point in drawing up these papers every year? The father then went on to say that his son is "borderline mentally retarded". To add to his son's embarrassment, he actually started that sentence with "as I've told you before", so not only has he said his son is almost retarded, but he's said it more than once. This, coming from the man whose clueless expression and bone-crunching handshake brought to mind images from "Of Mice and Men".
I was pleased that I didn't recall the parallel someone made between the father and Hank from "King of the Hill".
So the entire meeting was a bitching session, but I got them to sign it and walk out before the end of the period, so the victory was mine.
I was so relieved at their departure that I forgot to offer to show them the way out.
Too bad he didn't lose his way.
"Duh, which way did he go, George, which way did he go?"

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