You Can't Make This Stuff Up.

We have a student I'll call Scatter Boy. Scatter Boy is, quite honestly, the most scatter brained human I have ever met. Ever. The bell will ring and he will get out of his seat and walk out of the room, leaving all his possessions - his books, his binder, his pencil, everything - sitting on his desk. He loses things constantly. He has already lost (and paid for out of his allowance) one science book. I've given him a binder, a pencil pouch and dozens of pencils. He lost the binder in two days.

Scatter Boy, although he has a quirky, sometimes sweet personality, is pitiful. He is the oldest of seven, and his father is quite the disciplinarian. Apparently the other six are all straight A honor students and are perfect little angels, but Scatter Boy can't even manage to get on his bus to get home most days. He has an awful time in his classes because, even with Mr. Title in most his classes to help him and the others that need more individual attention, he just doesn't get what's going on. A lot of it might have to do with the fact that he's playing with pencils, shooting rubber bands, or generally doing anything other than what he's supposed to be doing instead of paying attention. I've made him my classroom helper, in the hopes that giving him some responsibility might be a way to get him some self-confidence and I did manage to get him into our after school tutoring program, but he hasn't gone long enough for us to see results.

Last week he got left, again, at school as he missed his bus. In one of his elective classes he apparently got a hold of a marker and tried to give himself a beard. He ended up with marker all over his face and hands. I suspect that he didn't so much as miss his bus as he didn't want to go home with marker all over his face. Dad wouldn't be happy.

That was mild compared to what he did today. Dad's going to be really, really unhappy.

One of my fourth period kiddos, Clingy Boy had to tell me why he was late to class. Clingy Boy has his own issues. He decided earlier in the year that he wanted to sit as close to me as possible, so he's at the desk right next to my teacher station - his choice. He often tells me how I am a lot like his mom, and he often spills his guts about things that are bothering him. He's a nice kid, but has some problems, especially as his grandfather was an innocent bystander during a gang shooting and got killed.

Anyway, Clingy Boy said that he witnessed Scatter Boy doing some inappropriate things in class so he went to guidance to file a statement because "what he was doing just wasn't right." Apparently Scatter Boy had a rip in his jeans, which extended from his crotch to his knee, and left an opening that was a little too tempting for Scatter Boy. Aside from pretending to "have sex with Mrs. Math's electric pencil sharpener," Scatter Boy also spent some time
with his hand inside his jeans, doing things that he probably should not be doing in class. Or at least pretending to.

Oh good gracious.

I never saw Scatter Boy because Mr. Social Studies saw him in the hallway, saw the rip, and decided that one wrong move would give everyone a lesson in anatomy, and sent him to guidance to get a new pair of pants. Apparently they didn't have anything that fit him, so he ended up in In School Suspension.

Mr. Social Studies hadn't heard about Clingy Boy's statement, so I filled him in. We then proceeded to head over to Mrs. Math to fill her in, especially because Clingy Boy said the incident happened in her class.

Mrs. Math was aghast. "He did what?" she asked. "When?"

I filled her in and her eyes got big. "He sits in the back there as he seems to focus better when he's by himself. I thought he was sick and sneezed or something as he came rushing up to get some tissues and then he used a whole bunch of hand sanitizer."

Mr. Social Studies and I were convulsed in laughter at this point.

"Oh my gosh," said Mrs. Math. "You don't think...he...oh that's disgusting!"

Yes, folks, welcome to Middle School.