I have a new focus this week. I found him yesterday, and I call him “Shug.” Be sure to draw out that long vowel sound for maximum effect. “Shug” has a mobile phone, and it dinged in class during first period as I was distributing quizzes to my class. He turned it over to me per school policy. Later during our teaming, I asked for him to come to my class for our homeroom time so that I could get him caught up on his missing work. I acted overjoyed to see him arrive in my classroom yesterday in the afternoon and promptly seated him close to my work station for proximity control.
Shug will be a heartbreaker once he reaches manhood. It is a fact. It is also a fact that I am immune to these miniature ladykillers who attempt to get past me with their boyish good looks. I tell them, “I am immune, immovable, and immortal. Try it on a twelve year old girl” in such a sweet manner that they realize the jig is up.
I monitored my students and expect them to work without me reminding them. They don’t get to sit idle when homework needs completing. Some crazy, earsplitting noise broke the silence, and my eyes met the sparkling brown eyes of my young charge. I sat next to him and watched him up close and personal.
During his work time, Shug made the mistake of exclaiming, “Oh, man!”
“I am a beautiful woman. Don’t ever forget it.” He lowered his head, smiled, and resumed work in a decidedly subdued manner (for him anyway). “Saying, ‘Oh, woman’ is not appropriate either. I am the beautiful woman who is staring at you while you work, Shug.
“Yes, you ought to turn red over that one.” He did not because he is already used to females watching him. I do like this young man who pays attention to everything else going on around him, moves with a constant frenetic energy, and is blessed with a bass voice that can not whisper. “I will come to your wedding and call you ‘Shug’ in front of your little wife,” I smiled. For some reason, he departed my room rapidly. I guess he did not want my undivided attention after all.
Today, Shug came back to visit me during homeroom. He worked diligently on his math homework but let out some other screeching noise that attracted my notice. I invited him to remain after school making as much noise as he wanted. One of my little artistic girls who I will call “Wolf Girl” witnessed the noise production and left shaking her head as Shug darted out the door. Boo hoo, abandoned again.
Wolf Girl loves drawing. It is so ingrained in her blood that she cannot help doodling in her workbook while still paying attention. Wolf Girl does not comprehend the word simple in regards to sketches or art work. I should give up trying to teach her the meaning, but I remind her every time we have a creative twist on an assignment.