Monday, I began teaching my big unit. My unit is over dental hygiene. We are talking all about why teeth are important, how to brush them, eating healthy, and dentists. It has been quite fun so far except that learning about teeth has made my class a little loose-tooth crazy! Every student has felt the need to, at some point this week, show me their wiggly tooth. As I have said before, loose teeth gross me out. I have spent my share of time staring at the ceiling during these fascinating conversations.
Another fascinating conversation that I had to have with my class was today, when I had to explain the difference between clorox and fluoride. I asked the students about what we learned yesterday and one student claimed that clorox helped keep your teeth clean. A little afraid that my students would try to put antibacterial wipes in their mouths to help protect their teeth, I grabbed a container of Clorox wipes out of the cabinet and had to explain that Clorox would make you sick if you put it in your mouth.
I am saying short prayers every so often that my students will not go home and put Clorox in their mouths! The last thing I need is for poison control to call and ask why I have been telling children that Clorox will protect their teeth from the invisible nasties (germs)!
The rich and epic history of things that have come out my students continues to grow. This week there were no nosebleeds, thankfully, but there were plenty of loose teeth. Teeth are gross. They are little tiny bones that stick out of your jaw and when you are six years old they fall out all over the place. Disgusting. If you saw a bone fall out of anywhere else on someone’s body you would probably panic and maybe faint. Why are teethe any different? The worst part of it all is when it comes to the end of the day and you are tired and ready to be done and you are running on instinct. Instinctually, when a person says, “look at this,” you look. Whether or not you really want to see it. One thing I care not too see is tiny teeth bent so far forward by a tiny finger the only thing they are hanging on to is faith. They leave that ghastly dark indent in the child’s gum where the tooth really belongs. The result is something you might witness in the theatre during a zombie apocalypse movie. There is great reason I do not watch zombie movies. I do not care to see that kind of thing in the classroom either. Everyone is so excited about their loose teeth and it is difficult to sound enthusiastic for them when you looking at the ceiling praying you do not faint right there on the ugly tile.
Two students managed to get sick on the carpet. One student managed to catch hers in her tiny hands. One student managed to land it directly on the carpet. One student managed to put her hand in it before anyone noticed what had happened. And one student teacher managed to continue the lesson, forget about the vomit, and step directly on it while continuing said lesson. I personally object to the idea that prayer should be banned in school because in that moment I thanked God that it was mostly water, was a small bit, and had been sitting their long enough to soak throughly into the carpet.
Each morning this week, I have awoken and asked myself, “what fresh hell will I be put through this day?” Apparently, the universe has decided half digested lunch and wiggly, protruding mouth bones are just as bad as a fresh hell. My students are nothing if not consistent.