Unusual things that irritated you as a child

In second grade, as part of my school district’s gifted and talented program, I was cast in a play that was probably some terrible learning experience with no story, but I was very excited at the time. However, nobody ever thought to tell me when rehearsals would be, and one time I recall my regular teacher running out of the school and flagging down the bus taking the other kids to rehearsal so I could get on it. I learned every stinking one of my lines for that play, and it was never finished, performed, or mentioned again. I almost forgot about it completely until today.

In third grade, I was given a book to do a book report on. I seem to recall that the other kids got to pick their book while I didn’t, but I am willing to admit I might be wrong about that. When I filled out the little worksheet, my answer to “Why did you like this book?” was “I didn’t like this book, because I didn’t choose it.” Note was sent home. Don’t recall Mom & Dad being angry about it, but I sure as hell was.

Fourth grade, we had a witch of a teacher, who already didn’t like me because my brother had been somewhat problematic. (For example, he talked sometimes, and she didn’t like that. To be fair, he had also been part of a group that had vandalized a pet project of hers, but he willingly paid the price even though everyone involved said he had been there, but not taken part.) As a result of her problems with my brother, Miss Williams had become acquainted with my mother, who has never been a glad sufferer of fools. The many and varied indignities I was made to suffer at this teacher’s hands still make me furious to this day, but I am usually mollified when Mom takes out copies of her correspondence with both the teacher and principal that year (which includes the memorable line “I hope that someday soon you take pity on the children of Cedar Grove and retire.”).

Anyway, being of a higher reading level than most of the class, I was given extra enrichment work. At one time, I was supposed to find a poem I liked in a big book of poetry that she gave me and write a short essay about it. I found one about children playing hide-and-seek in a graveyard that ended kind of morbidly by saying that someday they’d be dead too (Google is failing me on finding it, but that was just a quick search). Apparently, this poem was unacceptable. I had to do the project again. So I found a poem about Charles II (which I don’t believe was the one by the Earl of Rochester, but it’s all Google is finding me). This second choice led to me being kept after school and berated for at least half an hour until my mother appeared in the window on the classroom door. Miss Williams, with her back to the door, did not see her and continued finger-shaking and brimstone-spewing. I looked at my mother, kind of shrugged and made a face, and that set the teacher off even more. “WHAT are you making that ridiculous face for?” Admittedly, the smug tone in my voice as I calmly pointed out my increasingly-fuming mother standing outside the locked classroom door probably did not make the teacher like me any more.

So yeah, shitty teachers still piss me off. I’ll not bother with the story of how my ninth-grade geometry teacher had the school nurse call me in and try to find out if I was narcoleptic because I kept falling asleep in class.

ETA: Looking back, this thread was supposed to be about unusual things that irritated you as a child, and nothing I mentioned about could probably be considered unusual. But I already typed it all and got retroactively mad about it, so I’m not deleting. :slight_smile:

Are you serious? Knowing how to divide numbers without a calculator isn’t a useful skill? Huh?

Sent from my adequate mobile device.

Color me astounded as well. In working with wood, for example, it’s pretty useful to know how many specific cuts one can get from a particular piece and how much, if any, will be left over.

Looking at the short division example given, it seems functionally identical to long division anyway, except that instead of explicitly writing down the subtraction step, you do it in your head and just quickly note the remainder digits as superscripts of the original number.

If you look it up, you should be able to re-teach yourself from long division in about 5 minutes :slight_smile:

Exactly what I thought. I was never taught the short division method; I “invented” it myself.

Sent from my adequate mobile device.

As an adult, I am somewhat obsessed with “efficiency” in performing tasks, and looking back I can see that this started in childhood.

You see, my mother couldn’t stand the sight of a dirty dish. So we would have guests over for dinner, and that would be followed by after-dinner coffee and conversation amongst the adults. So, say, four adults: my parents and another married couple. One of the adults would finish off a cup of coffee and set the empty cup aside, and my mother would immediately hop up and carry the empty cup to the kitchen sink. Then that adult would want another cup of coffee, so my mom would go get a fresh cup and bring it to them … and then that cup would be instantly delivered to the kitchen sink as soon as the person set it down empty. Repeat.

By the end of the evening, four adults would have generated a dozen or more “dirty” coffee cups that my mom would then need to wash. Even as a young kid, I thought that was a whole lot of wasted effort, and wouldn’t it be easier to simply refill the cup the person already had?

School irritation: !@#$% book reports. I have enjoyed reading just about anything I can get my hands on for my entire life. I taught myself to read by the time I was 4 years old, and never slowed down. Yet, in grade school, I kept bringing home C-grades in Reading/English, mainly because, as the teachers would say in their notes, “Richard doesn’t do his book reports”. Well, to be perfectly honest, even as a child I saw them as a complete waste of time that served no purpose beyond “proving” that I had actually read a book. I was too busy actually reading. In hindsight, I realize the book reports were probably also meant to demonstrate whether or not I was comprehending what I was reading, but every standardized test I ever took showed that I was very high in “reading comprehension” ability.

This irritation probably fed into the opinion I hold, as an adult, that schools go about teaching “reading” the wrong way. That is, backwards. They attempt to instill a love of “literature”, making students read “classic literature” that they can’t relate to, ultimately resulting in adults who haven’t cracked a book since their school days. My belief is that schools should instill a simple love of reading for its own sake. People who love to read will eventually learn to appreciate “literature”. Forcing kids to write book reports doesn’t instill a love of reading, it turns reading into a chore.

I got put into the “gifted” program in my school district after is was presented to my parents as something more “challenging” for kids like me who tended to be “ahead of the curve”. I completely enjoyed it, until my parents yanked me out of it. I didn’t understand the reason at the time. It has only been since the dawn of the Internet that I learned that, at least in the 1970s, many of those programs involved testing us “gifted” children to determine whether we might have telepathic/telekinetic abilities. In other words, we were being used as experimental test subjects for hokum, and that’s not really what our parents thought they were signing us up for.

Interesting! I’d never heard of that. I was in the gifted program throughout most of my grade-school years (including 4th, 5th, and 6th grade where it was a full-time thing with the same teacher for all three years) and never once did I get tested for telepathy or telekinesis (or even got a whiff of any hokum-type stuff). I probably would have thought it was cool, though, and so would my mom.

It drove me nuts too. Suddenly, I started imploring my mother to change my name to a popular one so I would hear it. Once I was older and didn’t care so much, my name became more popular.

I hear ya and totally agree. Plus the books sometimes were stupid as balls. Some books I really enjoyed, but being forced to pick it apart sucked.

One thing that used to irritate me in school was when I’d call the teacher over to ask a question but they’d announce the answer to the whole class.

OMG, yes, parent-teacher night was awful. Particularly since my mom would always come back with a litany of the teacher’s complaints about me, and I would have no chance to respond or defend myself.

It also drove me nuts when teachers split up the class by gender – “boys, read this book; girls, read that one” – for no apparent reason.

Book reports! I hated them! I never knew what to say to prove I read the book, plus the teacher usually had to take my books away from me to keep me from reading them in class, so they knew I was reading them. Why the busy work?

In 6th grade, I had a man as my teacher, the first man I had ever encountered in a classroom. I didn’t have a crush on him, but his opinion of me mattered enormously. I was crushed when he criticized my choice of recreational reading, dismissing it as silly and juvenile. He tried to get me to read Dickens and Shakespeare, but I was 11 and simply did not have the maturity and cultural context to understand A Tale of Two Cities or even Romeo and Juliet all on my own, even if my reading level was higher than average.

When my mom would refer to my friends as “little friends”. As in, “Juicy is having a little friend over.” It sounded condescending.