Snowballs, Snow Storms & Snow Awards

[The scene outside my front door on Thursday, February 18.]

On Thursday, I called my BFF who lives in a necklace (Annapolis), to tell her that we got out of school early, and I almost didn’t make it home because some ninnyhammer was blocking the road.

She wasn’t very sympathetic. 

It probably had to do with the 55 to 80 inches of the white fluffy stuff that’s fallen over that way.  She’s been out of school for a week now and just a tad bit grumpy.

By Friday morning, the 1 to 3 inches of snow predicted for the Dallas/Ft. Worth metroplex mushroomed into an official 12.5 inches. Of course, all the weather forecasters had excuses as to why they missed the “Snowstorm of the Century.”

Those same weather forecaster  talking heads were blah-blah-blahing that there wasn’t going to be much accumulation on the roadways. They were chatting about that at the same millisecond that I, along with my three other hall monitoring buddies, were watching the kiddos out in the parking lot lobbing snowballs while some poor maintenance worker unsuccessfully attempted to shovel away snow with a shovel that more aptly belonged in the Ag barn.

You would think those weather forecasters talking heads ninnyhammers at least would have popped outside every once in awhile to take a gander at the sky. 

So for that, they deserve the Ninnyhammer-I-Can’t-Forecast-My-Way-Out-Of-A-Paper-Bag-Snow-of-the-Century Award.

Now, back to our little snowball fight… Ours never escalated into an all out melee like over at Skyline High School in Dallas. You can read about it here and watch the free-for-all caught on video by WFAA reporter Brett Shipp here.

No siree, missy, none of that at my school.

Of course, our administrators stayed on top of things. When rumors started flurrying about a planned schoolwide snowball fight, we just didn’t let the kiddos walk outside unless they had to get to the Ag building or the field house. 

It’s amazing what a little common sense will do, and for that, let’s give my principal the Common-Sense-I-Can-Probably-Forecast-Better-Than-Those-Ninnyhammer-Weathermen-Snow King of the Century Award.

And while we're talking about amazing things, one of the freshman principals deserves a very special Neither-Rain-Snow-Nor-Stiletto-Heels-Wearing-Snow Queen of the Century Award for running speedy-quick through the snowy, slushy parking lot in stiletto boots to nab a perpetrator for 

1. failing to obey the edict to quit lobbying snowballs and 
2. for sagging.

Of course, it probably helped that the kid’s pants were falling down as our Stiletto Heeled Assistant Principal grabbed him. All that raucous  gave me and my hall buddy Rhonda a chance to chant, “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground…”

Geewillikers, I love this job.

Pants On The Ground, Boxers & Anthems

Sign me up! I’m ready to go on the road as an official Doo-Wop girl.

And I’m not the only one, either. We can thank American Idol for that.

Yep, high school teachers everywhere are singin' a new anthem—that “Pants on the Ground” song. [This link will actually let you see the video if your district blocks that sort of thing like mine does.]

I know it’s stupid, but I love that song. In fact, I’m pretty certain high school teachers across the globe—who act as the first responders in dress code battles in our nation's public schools— love that song. Jeez Louise, we’ve been singing it for years—“Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground…”

If you believe sagging is only a phenomenon in inner city schools, think again. I currently teach in a predominately white suburban school, and I promise you I have seen just as many boxers as I did when I taught in a minority majority high school.

In fact, if I were a bettin’ kind of gal, I would guess that high school teachers see more underwear than most mothers. Hails bails, sometimes I think I must be working at the Hanes underwear plant.

At least now, thanks to Larry Platt and his little ditty, every time a sagging kid goes by, I start yelling, “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground…”

It's enough to startle the kiddos, so much so that they do pull their pants up—at least until they round the corner or duck into a classroom.

My hall buddy commented that someone somewhere will probably complain about the “fool” remark. It’s just not politically correct, she noted. And, probably someone somewhere will say that the “fool” remark probably will negatively impact someone’s self of steam (and we all know how I feel about that).

Somehow that little ditty loses its snapiness if you have to say, “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin' like a clothing-challenged young person with your pants on the ground…”

See what I mean? So I’m stickin’ with Larry’s original lyrics.

Now, Larry’s little ditty got me to thinking about how we needed a song for all those plunging necklines. I came up with one and ran down to sing it to my principal.

He just sighed and said he was glad I wasn’t in charge of the student radio station and told me to put that little ditty into my “Things That Will Get You Fired Folder.”

So I guess you’re going to have to use your imagination for that one.