Parental Visitation -- a new form of torture

Yesterday was parent visitation day at my daughters respective schools. For those of you out there who haven't heard of this made up holiday it officially recognizes American Education Week.

What that means is up for interpretation.

Anyway, parents are "encouraged" (more like nagged to death by their own children) to visit that classroom and observe their child's "instructional program". How's that for a press release.

I can only imagine the dread endured by all teachers during parental visitation. I imagine them all getting ready for work that day saying, "Please don't let me look like an ass today."

My first visit began just after 9 a.m. where I found my second grader in the throws of music class. Shortly before I got there, a nameless student vomited in the entrance way. Yes, you read that right. In true Adam Sandler from Big Daddy fashion, the 20 something music teacher covered the vomit with paper towels and continued to practice for the Holiday program, while waiting for the missing custodian.

Let's recap, so far we have vomit, Christmas carols, and a missing custodian. Did I mention that it is just after 9 a.m.?

Music is now over, the vomit is now clean and we are lined up and walking.

Me (to one of the students): "So where are we going now?"

Student: "Mandatory bathroom break."

Me: "Sweet."

Upon returning from our mandatory bathroom break, I was privy to what it is like to give 20 second graders a spelling test and let me tell you. TEACHERS NEED TO BE PAID MORE MONEY!

One little boy tried to cheat on his test right in front of me. No joke. I pointed out the fact that I could see his spelling words in his desk and he turned about three shades of red and threw them away. I've been dying to know how many he got right.

After spending an hour observing that instructional program, I headed off to intermediate school. Our intermediate school is dedicated to the awkward age of 4th, 5th and 6th graders.

I joined my daughter's 4th grade class in the middle of geometry. That's right--GEOMETRY. Are you smarter than a 4th grader? Here is your test...how many centimeters are there in a decimeter? I know, I never heard of a decimeter either.

Daughter's teacher managed to shatter a mixing glass into a billion centimeter pieces without even trying and when I told her that glass was at least better than vomit she didn't even crack a smile.

Hello..didn't you get the memo? Funny. That's. What. I. Do!

Geometry was over (Thank GOD) and we were off to our new adventure. It had to be a little better, right? Wrong. 4th grade gym class. UGH.

On the 3 mile walk from my daughters lower level classroom to the upper level gymnasium, I'm pretty sure her teacher SHHHHHH'd me twice.

After learning for the umpteenth time in gym, that not everyone can juggle, I was glad that my instructional observation was over for the day and feel I must again reiterate that TEACHERS NEED TO BE PAID MORE MONEY!