Teaching: Day 68

Today I spoke with Dirtbag (dirtbag? I’m never sure whether to capitalize something like this. It is a name, so proper noun, but I’m nearly certain she means it as demeaning as possible… so that may hint at lowercase) and his wife after school, which is nothing out of the ordinary considering the fact that I am lucky enough to speak with them not just every day, but twice a day. Drop-off and Pick-up are among my favorite moments of the day as I get to speak with two forms of human beings who are quite possibly more difficult to communicate with than my nonverbal special education students on the autism spectrum.

Dirtbag’s wife had some questions for me as to whether the pronunciation of /m/ is “muuhhh” or “mmmmm.” Questions are alright with me, as she generally comes into school with 17 or 18 questions on all differing topics ranging from dental floss to the length of my latest necklace, but today’s questions were especially unique in that as she leaned in to pronounce these sounds to me, somewhere underneath the thick black framed glasses that reach from mid forehead down past her nose, her eyes made contact with mine.

This may have been a first in the 66 days that I have known her.

Now, I’m not sure I would have been so flustered, except that, as she leaned in closer and closer, “mmmmm. Mmuuuuuuh. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Muuuuuuuhhhhh.” I was quite sure she was actually going in for a makeout session. While her bonnet like hat had covered her hair so completely that she could have passed for a man, I was still uncomfortable with the idea of making out with dirtbag’s wife in the middle of my school lobby. “MMMMMM. MMMuuuuuhhh.” Her utterances were getting louder and my palms were getting sweatier. I needed a plan. How should I deal with her breath? I couldn’t remember the protocol for bad breath/uncomfortable makeout session with student’s parent, but then I wasn’t sure there is a protocol.

So, I made up my own.

Lean towards the left, back into the corner of the lobby pillar. Suck in lips. This did not work as she began to push her lips out further to display her sounds. “MMMM MUUUHHH MMMM.”

Alright, new protocol.

I nodded with each “mmm,” shook my head to each “muhh” and wiped my hands on my pants, while inwardly calculating my monthly paycheck to be just under anything worth today’s conversation. If I’d been timing, I would have known that exactly 13 minutes later (and 26 seconds) she nodded after the last “mmmm,” and began to repeat “mmm” under her breath while backing up.

Backing up is dirtbag’s wife’s way of signaling us she’s not ready for us to speak yet, and generally my signal to run—and run is what I did.

Note to self: keep tic tacs on hand at all times.