The Solution Room

Every day when I pick up Samantha, I ask her a couple of standard questions about her day. The first one is usually, "Let me guess, Jason and Matthew", meaning Jason and Matthew were the ones who got into trouble today. I'm almost always right, except for that one week where Jason was gone for four days. Also, the day there was snow on the playground, three GIRLS also got into trouble for THROWING SNOWBALLS. WHICH IS NOT ALLOWED. Anyway, today, after confirming that Jason and Matthew had gotten in trouble, I told her that what she should do tomorrow, just to mess with everyone, is to march into school and do something really bad and get into trouble FIRST.

"NO, I CAN'T, BECAUSE IF I GET INTO TROUBLE, I'D HAVE TO GO TO THE SOLUTION ROOM." This being said, of course, the usual two octaves higher than normal conversation. I'm really sorry about this, but I burst out laughing, LAUGHING, which pissed her off even more. "YOU'RE LAUGHING, BUT IT'S REAL." I apologized and tried not to even SMILE, and I asked her what the solution room was. It's the room they go to discuss a better solution for the problem they were having when they got into trouble, except she doesn't know first-hand, since the little goody-two-shoes fart has never been there, not even the time the "guest teacher" got mad at her for talking.

Things sure have changed since Elrod Elementary (Smellrod) in the '70s. Ugh, I threw up a little in my mouth just then. Did I really say the '70s? Someone told me about that, I think...