Mary Poppins

I should have done more on a monthly review day (PTR day), but the afternoon blahs set in. When Mr. Arizona asked if he could come to my room to read, I agreed. He read, I graded.

In the middle of the afternoon the math teacher stopped by and said that in his PTR’s  the Lieutenant said, “Wow, if Mary Poppins wrote you up, you must have done something wrong!” Meaning me apparently. Meaning that I’m too nice. That’s not altogether fair since I don’t have a lot of students from that pod, and the Lt. doesn’t know me at all. We laughed  about my new moniker for a minute and then he left.

Mr. Arizona looked up and I made sure he understood what that was all about rather than leave him confused in case he were prone to gossip. He agreed that sometimes I am too nice, but most of the time I’m cold-hearted. Geez, thanks. Not wanting to hear more, I returned to grading.

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About hey miss

A teacher. A prison guard. I used to think that was like oil and water. Like lightening and metal. Some days it is. Some days it's magic.
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