I knew that there would be consequences when we flushed that damn roach. I told you he was going back to his sewer-home to conspire with all his little roach relatives… well, today, it happened.
We’re closing in on the end of the school year, and with that comes every teacher’s favorite event: yearly evaluations. That’s where one of the school principals become your “evaluator,” and sit in your classroom for an entire hour to make sure you’re not warping the minds of the children. These particular evaluations are rather important, so they give you a heads-up so that you can prepare accordingly.
Now, many teachers use this time to put on a dog & pony show, but I own dachshunds who are completely uncooperative and the pony poops too much, so I just wing it.
I chose a time with one of my most talented classes (note that talent does NOT translate into cooperative behavior, but my kids are pretty awesome, so I wasn’t afraid.) The “bad kids” require a little more attention, but seriously, I got this.
Until the roach showed up.
It wasn’t long after The Evaluator sat down that a chorus of high-pitched screams erupted from the second row. I know the scream well; usually, mine is part of it. But today, I had to LEAD, so with false bravado, I called out, “Is it a roach?”
“OH MY GOD! OVER THERE!!! OVER THERE!!!!!!” came the replies at a decibel level that could shatter glass. My entire second row of students were perched like parrots on the back of their chairs. I looked back at The Evaluator, who was click-click-clickity on her computer, observing my classroom management skills with a slight but distinguishable frown. I looked around the room at my boys…..
….. who left me hanging.
I took two steps toward the roach, who recognized me immediately, and ran kamikaze-style at my size 10 Sketchers. I looked down, took a deep breath and summoned every ounce of courage in my body. As I lifted my foot, I subconsciously thought about how thin the soles of my shoes were. Damn comfortable shoes. I closed my eyes and stomped with a grimace.
I looked down quickly to find I’d only gotten HALF of the roach, and he was now writhing his germy arms wildly, suicide-terrorist until the very end. I tried to kick him, but he was stuck to my shoe.
I’m going to pause for a moment, so you can truly appreciate the level of freak-out I was at. ANYONE who knows me understands that this situation sends me into DEFCON 1. This is my second worst nightmare (with the kitty incident being the first.) This is very close to peeing-pants freak out, except the stigma of being the “teacher who peed her pants during her evaluation” somehow outweighed the complete terror I was having at that moment.
I know it’s a BUG, but I have seen these bugs CRAWL INTO SOMEONE’S EAR. And not just on YouTube, but IN REAL LIFE!
So, I shook Half-Mashed Zombie Bug violently from my shoe, but he continued to crawl back towards my leg. I tried to give him another kick, but I missed, and when I looked back down…
….. he was gone.
But I know I missed him, which meant the only place he could be….
….was in the deep cuff of the hem on my dress pants.
I walked over to a student sitting at the end of a row and leaned over, speaking quietly. “Is the roach on my pants?”
“Will you look for me?”
He looked at me like I was insane, and I just realized that DURING AN EVALUATION, I asked a student to LOOK DOWN MY PANTS. “NO!!!” I quickly backpedaled. “I meant at the bottom, close to my shoe!! Do you see anything stuck to my pant leg?”
He glanced quickly. “No.”
I knew he didn’t look, and I knew if it was in there, he couldn’t see it anyway. Behind me, at the front of the room, I heard more clackity-clack-clack. I took a deep breath, shook both of my legs HARD, and continued to teach the lesson, constantly waiting for the scratch-scratch-scratch on my leg. It never came.
The hour ended without any further drama, and thankfully, it was my conference period. I ran to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door quickly behind me. I came out of those pants faster than a senior boy on prom night. As I shook the cloth, my fears were finally confirmed.
The roach dropped out of the cuff and onto the floor.
And that’s when I died.* The end.
This story is 100% true, except the part where I died. I cannot make this shit up. They are OUT TO GET ME.