Today a quiz was writ in my Science class. There was much moaning and carrying on by those who did not study (only 3 or 4 students per class, thankfully).
The quiz was multiple choice, which meant that everyone needed a pencil, because I love Scantron for multiple choice*.
A student (who I will call "Jamie" so as not to give away his/her gender or identity) forgot his/her pencil. In fact, in the 2 weeks we've had of school so far, he/she has usually neglected to bring anything of use to class, despite just being given a lockerfull of school supplies by his/her parents.
Says me: " Jamie, you'll need a pencil for this test."
Says Jamie: "It's O.K., I'll just use my pen."
Me: "Good luck with that. As I just explained to the class, the Scantron machine will only pick up pencil."
Jamie:"Oh. Well you could just correct it yourself."
Me: "No way. You are not any more special than all of the other special people in this class. Now borrow a pencil from someone."
The moment I utter these words, you can hear 24 pencil boxes and pencil cases snapping and zipping shut, then being shoved underneath desks. Suddenly, all other students seem engrossed in printing their names, letter by letter, on their Scantron sheets. Clearly Jamie has a poor track record for returning borrowed goods.
Jamie seems unperturbed by this and is now digging around in his/her ear with a knuckle.
Me: "Go get a pencil from your locker."
Jamie: "Uh.... O.K."
I proceed to tour the class, handing out scrap paper and reassuring the overachievers. The standard pre-test routine.
A minute later, I'm back at Jamie. It is amazing: Jamie actually has a pencil in his/her hand. I am about to share my heartiest congratulations when I notice that the pencil looks familiar. It is my pencil. (S)he has taken it off my podium, which happens to be a meter in front of his desk. It was hooked onto my binder, where I keep it so that it does not fall on the floor.
Me: "I see you have a pencil now."
Me: "Did you get it from your locker?"
Me: "Try again. Did you get it from your locker?"
Jamie: "Uh, it's mine, it was on the floor. I found it."
Me: " The correct answer is no. Actually, that pencil is mine. You "found" it on my podium. Where I keep MY things. See: it has my name on it."
Jamie: "Where? Oh. There. Uh..."
Me: "You need to go out in the hall now, before I explode."
This incident hearkened back to one particular grade 5 memory. Jason, an idiotic idiot that I hated intensely, once stole my very cool big, fat, multicoloured pen that had those little spring pushy-down things for every colour and there were like twenty different colours like light blue and magenta and I bought it with my own allowance money so it was, like, extra special to me.
Anyhow, he swiped it off my desk, or so I figure, and then whited out my name, which I had printed very neatly on the top using a Sharpie. Then, when confronted, he claimed that it was his, and later, that he had found it on the floor. For ten agonizing minutes, I had lost my favourite pen because of some thieving idiotic idiot.
Thankfully, I was a really big whiner and a teacher's pet. Also, white out scratches off plastic extra-easily, so I got my pen back and Jason (much like our buddy Jamie) got a big ol' DE-TEN-TION. Muah-ha-ha!!
*20 minutes to write the test, and 5 minutes to mark it. Truly a teacher's best friend.