Back In The 2nd Grade Again

There was an announcement from the church pulpit asking for classroom monitors during testing at Fowler Grade School. I signed up and some time later I received a phone call. The woman sounded vaguely surprised that anyone would have volunteered for this project. Anyway, the morning arrived and I signed in for the quicky tutelage, 5 minutes, and received assurance that all would go well. We were then given plastic boxes full of testing material and escorted to the classrooms we were to monitor. I found myself planted in the 2nd grade class along with 22 students. . . . .and Mrs. Middleton. The desk arrangement was bewildering with all of them arranged haphazardly around the room. Several desks abutted each of the walls. It was strangely quiet in the room and I was soon to find out why. Mrs. Middleton wasn't a Drill Sargeant, she was the DEBIL!! I wasn't just intimidated, I was afraid. Immediately I forgot what I, as classroom monitor, was supposed to be doing. Mrs. Middleton took the testing materials from me and pointed to a chair. I sat. The next few hours were torture for those children. They were not allowed to move, cross their legs, cough or scoot their chairs and they could breathe only with permission, something she did not did not allow much of . A little girl, Jade, that I sat next to grinned and gve me a tiny wave every time I looked her way. I smiled back at her. I think that's what got me moved the first time.

A tiny lull in testing, Mrs. Middleton and I hand out snacks, 6-packs of peanut butter crackers, and one intrepid boy raises his hand to ask for a drink. There were 21 students and a volunteer classroom monitor in that room that already knew the answer to that one. Something told me to not eat my crackers. I think it was an angel. I can't imagine sitting rigid in those chairs, LLP, (whatever that means but it was serious because Mrs. Middleton kept repeating it), trying to concentrate on Mrs. M's droning voice, working on test questions with my mouth so puckered from those crackers that my lips kissed my tonsils.

It was an experience and one I'm not likely to sign up for again. The kids each looked at me with suspicion, maybe even dislike, after they had finished the testing and were filing out to head for the lunchroom. They didn't invite me to come along. They also didn't invite me to recess.

I turn my head to find Mrs. Middleton standing next to me. She said "I'm sure glad my paycheck isn't based on the results of that one." Tuckinig my head I aim for the door and escape.