Argh! Alrighty, most of you know I teach third grade. Today just plain pissed me off.
I have just one child who causes much trouble–we’ll call him Max. Max reads at a low first grade level, and is very low oeverall–I honestly think there may be a processing problem and am referring him for screening.
That’s difficult enough for Max–but on top of that, he is spoiled freakin’ ROTTEN. Get this–when he was in kinder, his dad (yes, dad) waited outside the office on the bench the ENTIRE THREE HOURS for the WHOLE YEAR until his son got out. They buy him everything–and if he has a hard day at school, Daddy-o takes him out and buys him something to make it better. Max is a moody, angry, resistant child who is quite frankly used to getting his way.
Well, Tuesday was Max’s birthday. Normally, his folks take him out of school and go play the day away; I managed to convince his dad to let Max come to school anyway. Max apparently did not like that, and pouted, sulked, and refused to work all day. Then he stole some tickets (I pass them out to reward good behavior–they’re redeemable for privileges and prizes) from another student’s desk; when caught, he threw his B-Day pencil and certificate on my desk and sulked. He lied at first, denying everything, but eventually admitted to the Principal that yes, he’d stolen the tickets.
Consequence? No recess (free recess or lunch) at all for the rest of the week, and he had to write a letter of apology to the student he stole from that had to be countersigned by parents. If he didn’t bring it, he wasn’t going on our field trip.
Today, dad brings the letter. It came in late. I open it, I read it…hmm. Dad’s handwriting. (Obvious–Max’s script is very immature.) Hmm…even worse: the letter said, “Dear Jim, I’m sorry someone stole your tickets and put them in my backpack. I hope you don’t think I did it, because I would never steal from anyone.”
Oh. My. God.
I thought I was going to pop I was so furious, as much as with the lying dad as the lying son. Max admitted it! He told us the when, where, how, etc. I can’t believe the stupidity of some parents–covering for their child like that. UGH.
The principal and I called the parents this afternoon. The dad didn’t want to talk about it, wouldn’t admit to writing the letter, and just pawned it all off on his (thankfully) apologetic wife. She told us Max’s story changed instantly when he realized the Principal was on the phone. Max isn’t going on the field trip tomorrow–and if he doesn’t come (which is very likely–Dad may take him on that consolation trip), we’re sending someone to pick him up. Dammit.
What’s the worst of all is that Max could be a good kid. I like him, no matter what a wrestling match he may be each day. He could do so much better…if the parents were willing to help.
Dammit.
“Me fail English? That’s unpossible!”
“English? Who needs that? I’m never going to England.”
