Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.

This post is coming a little late . . . as this incident occurred about a month ago. It was 2 weeks before school was out. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. I love my students more than anything in the world, but that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy a good summer break! They were bouncing off the walls! Anyway, let me take you back a month ago . . .

I opened the door to my classroom (if you can call it a classroom, I have heard it referred to as "the man cave", "prison", and "hell" - it is in a portable with no windows and a giant metal door . . . welcome to Latin class. Like Latin doesn't have a hard time on it's own . . .) and in front of me I see a huge pile of chewed up carpet and wood chips. The thought runs through my head, "there is either an animal living in my room at night or some kid is really ticked at the grade I just gave him on his project". I step over the pile and make my way toward my desk. There, behind my desk, was a bunch of chewed up posters and rat poop. Awesome. The good news was that I was at school an hour early to help the middle school praise band, so there was plenty of time for me to pull myself together (to keep myself from crying - tears don't help anything), find the janitor, and have him clean my room for me. Pete is the best. However, after he cleaned the room he found me and said, "a rat chewed through the wall to get into your classroom, but I know what it was trying to get . . .", I wasn't sure if I wanted to know . . . "there was a sandwich in a plastic bag that it was trying to take out with it. It was a pretty old sandwich too, it was decaying and everything." I threw up a little bit in my mouth. This has to be one of the most disgusting things I have ever heard. And then I was nervous that it was my sandwich! I was racking my brain trying to figure out when I had a sandwich in my classroom and why I didn't put it where it belonged (in my stomach or in the trash can). As the day continued, I told the story to each of my classes, usually ending the story by picking on some random kid (or not so random kid, but one that has been giving me a hard time all year . . .) and saying, "it was totally your sandwich, wasn't it (fill in kid's name)". I tell the story during 6th period (almost the end of the day), when one of the boys says, "awww! that was still in here? That has been there for 2 months!". I kept him after class, discovered the other 3 culprits, and found out the story. Apparently 2 months before this, 4 boys were eating lunch in my room because they got in trouble during class (I make them eat lunch in my room in complete silence - whatever I'm mean). I stepped out of the room (I know, big mistake, but it's my lunch too!!!!!) for 5 minutes, probably to talk to Darcy, and while I was out of the room one kid decided to throw his half-eaten ham and cheese sandwich (still in the bag) at another one of the boys. This continued until some one threw it and it landed behind my file cabinet. They decided not to tell me because they didn't want to get in trouble. Thanks guys. The rat came back that night again. More chewed up wall and floor when I arrived the next day. I was out of a classroom for 3 days while the rats (note the plural form - more than one rat) were taken care of and the room was sanitized. I was told by my principal that I took the whole situation very well . . . but what was I supposed to do? Throwing a fit wouldn't make the rats go away! I have to admit that at a point the whole thing just became funny. The school has moved me into the main building for next year and I will have a real classroom! The worst part was not being across from Darcy, I felt like we didn't even work at the same school anymore! But thank goodness she was there! My blog shout-out goes to her, since she was there to hug me when I just needed to cry it out. She's the best.

On the up side, another kid gave me a bobble-head of Justin Timberlake as an end-of-the-year gift. He found it at a garage sale for $2. Best 2 dollars you will ever spend, kid! Greatest. Gift. EVER. I love my job.