Yet another one for the file entitled "You Can't Make This Stuff Up."
So this afternoon I'm down at the local elementary with Mrs. Duck, Mrs. Eagle, and Mrs. Angora (who actually raises angora goats) among a few others as we've been asked to help judge the elementary science fair. That in itself was quite fun. We didn't see a lot of silly projects along the lines of "how many marbles will each brand of paper towel hold?", but instead saw some really creative projects with good science behind them. It's obvious that the elementary teachers were setting the bar a bit higher and that was good to see. We judged the fourth grade kids and our winner did a project on decomposition (no, not bodies, although I see a future at the UT Knoxville Body Farm for this kid), plus another great one on what type of clothing motorcycle riders should wear (he used fabric, chicken legs, and parents driving a truck to help test - very clever).
In any case, we're chatting a bit afterward and Mrs. Angora starts telling us a story about giving the social studies benchmark to her homeroom kids yesterday. Apparently she has a Stoner Kid in her class (it seems like we all do this year) who's a sweet kid, but, well, stoned nearly all the time. In any case, as she walked through the room, all the kids had their heads down and were working, including Stoner Kid who was busy bubbling in his sheet and working diligently on his test. Warm fuzzies all around.
After the test, she's going through the answer sheets and notices that, weirdly, there are no bubbles bubbled in on Stoner Kid's answer sheet. What the hell?? She saw him working. She knew he was bubbling in bubbles on something. How come his sheet is blank?
So she starts to investigate and walks over to Stoner Kid's desk.
And there on that desk are 30 little circles all bubbled in as nice as could be!
Stoner Kid apparently had a bit of trouble figuring out where, exactly the answer sheet ended and his desk began.
Wanna guess who had to take the test again today???
And you know We Aren't Leaving This Child Behind, even though he's hitting the weed every morning before he stumbles through our door.