It Stinks to High Heaven

You know, one of the many reasons why I chose to teach middle school (outside of the fact that I'm just nuts) is that you don't have to deal with the messy side of childhood. No wetting pants, no barfing (usually), no lice, no boogers on the desk. Seventh graders have pretty much outgrown this and although they can be disgusting, it's not as disgusting as a bunch of pre-school rug rats with a bathroom problem.

And then we got PoopBoy.

PoopBoy apparently earned a reputation last year as having the unique talent of being able to poop, in his pants, on a dare. The kids, being snotty little sixth graders, just thought this was hysterical and would dare PoopBoy to do his little stunt, which got PoopBoy sent to the office, the nurse's office, and then home.

Now, to be honest, PoopBoy isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he's not special ed, he's not a life skills kid, he's not autistic. (To be honest, he's lazy and is used to people calling him stupid). According to his father (who's a real treat, I assure you), this child has no medical problem for his bowel issue, and is perfectly normal. Don't know about you all, but if my kid was shitting on himself in middle school I'd have his butt in to see every specialist and mental health professional I could get my hands on.

PoopBoy was fine up until this last week and all of a sudden has started to poop regularly in his pants. You know when this happens because the smell makes my cat's litter boxes seem like a basket of blooming roses. It will knock you flat. It can clear a classroom. It can cause teachers from other parts of the building to ask, "What is that awful smell coming from your team area?" It is beyond disgusting. It is why I spent fifteen bucks buying super high powered hot oil air fresheners for my classroom.

PoopBoy will, when confronted in the hall, admit that he pooped in his pants, and while admitting this, will not show the least bit of remorse or embarrassment. He will then sit in guidance (on a stack of paper towels) while the Guidance Goddess sprays Lysol throughout the room, and wait for his father to show up to take him home. His father, by the way, will then spend half an hour yelling at every person he sees that his son his normal, that the school screwed him up, and there's not a damn thing wrong with his kid, and it's all our fault he shits on himself.

Except now the father won't come down. He simply sent his kid to school with a change of clothes and a packet of baby wipes. We are talking about a thirteen year old here.

So the other day PoopBoy walks in my room, stinking of shit to high heaven, and I immediately usher him into the hallway after my kids start making gagging noises and hideous faces of disgust. PoopBoy, for once, claims he didn't poop. He also claims he actually wiped his ass and cleaned himself off. However, the smell says otherwise. Off he goes to get his baby wipes and his change of clothes. Before he goes he whimpers and whines (which is kind of freaky considering that he's a big kid, too) about how nobody likes him and everyone says he stinks all the time.

Well, duh, I don't think most kids are rushing out to be best buds with a kid that smells like a diaper and probably should be wearing one.

We've told Mr. Enforcer that this has got to stop. He's disrupting at least one class a day and lets, face it, he's a BioHazard. If, as his father says, there's no medical reason why this is happening, then there's a mental one. And with a father like this kid has got, I wouldn't be suprised that there's a lot more than mental issues involved.

And if his father is so damn smart, as he's claimed to all who will listen, then I think he should just homeshool the little cherub and he can shit all he wants.