Flatulence Friday: Ground Zero

One day a couple years ago, some of my students all started mumbling and giggling during reading. I went over to reprimand them. "What's the problem?" I started.

"SOMEBODY LET A STINK BOMB!" one kid literally screamed.

"IT SMELLS LIKE CHEESE AND EGGS!" another confirmed.

Trying to quash this outburst, I snapped, "It couldn't possibly be that--" and that's when I got within range of the fart. "OH GOD!" I blurted involuntarily. "Oh, man, you're right, it does . . .what do you kids EAT in the morning?"

Flatulence Friday: The Final Countdown

Earlier this week the class was involved in some group work, which involved some talking to each other. When this happens and I need their attention, I count backward from five to give them ample time to refocus. Well, this time I finished counting as everyone was getting quiet, but right after saying "One, zero," Mark stood up and let one rip loudly.

I couldn't help but laugh.

As if he knew . . .

As if he knew what today was, as I walked by him, Jeffrey patted his stomach and said, "Watch out, Mr. Rice. A big one's coming."

"What have you been eating?"

"It's going to be big. It's building. Probably later, during writing."

First Flatulence Friday

So, I don't know if you've thought about it, but when you teach children, you're exposed to a lot more farts and fart talk than the average person. And the hard part is, even when it's hilarious, you're not supposed to laugh. So I'm hoping this will be a recurring feature here on the blog on certain Fridays.

So for the first one I'm gonna turn the years back to a very special class I once taught. This was back when my school had "gifted" classes in each grade. I taught a gifted second grade class, perhaps the best of my career. I'm still close to many of the kids and parents from that year.

Anyway, enter Liz. Liz was small, cute as a button, super-smart, and one of the shiest girls I've ever encountered. One day I called the class to the carpet. When I called her team, she stood up, bent over to push in her chair and let a really loud one rip. I mean, for her size, it was like an atom bomb. You know how Spider-man has the "proportionate strength of a spider"? It was like that. First impulse was to crack up, but I stopped because I was worried. This girl, I really liked her, but she was already shy and reluctant to talk or joke around. I was sincerely worried this would be the moment that would ruin her social life in this school for the rest of time, that she would look back on it forever in shame. The next second seemed to last an eternity.

She then put her hands to her face in mock shock and exclaimed "Ooopsie!" and went on her way.

That was the day I realized this girl was awesome.