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02 December 2006

Losing It

No, not a reference to the "B" movie starring a then-budding scientologist freakazoid.

My temper is what I'm referring to. Walk around the average high school, and sooner or later you'll find a teacher with eyes bugging out, index finger leveled, and lung capacity tested to its full extent as he just lays into a student or two. Perhaps you've even been on the receiving end of such a tirade (even I was a couple of times, back in the day). In any case, this teacher, on Friday, was me .

Normally I hate to lose it, because I don't like myself very much when I feel out of control, and I have a hard time getting my wits back - not a good thing in the middle of class. But these boys have had it coming for a while, and actually it felt quite cathartic. Plus, it worked. I especially liked dressing down our future varsity quarterback (a good kid, btw) when he tried to backtalk me in the middle of my rant. He never got a complete sentence out. The rest of class was deathly silent after that, and we actually accomplished a few goals for the day. What a concept.

Anyhow, I came home and thumped my chest a few times. The wife was really impressed, as you can imagine.

1 comment:

middleagedhousewife said...

My brother adores his 5 children. My nieces and nephews adore their father. When they were growing up, they rec'd spankings about every 4 weeks or so. My brother - and his wife and my sister and brother-in-law, who had all witnessed the phenomenon - swore that the kids asked for it.
Their misbehavior would work up to such a fevered pitch that the gentle requests, whispered threats, even screaming tirades usually employed would not work.
By late Friday afternoon, "it" would begin to happen. The children would begin their trek to the back of the house, to the hallway, into their parents' room and, finally, to lean against the wall outside the master bathroom.
When my brother stepped in from work, he would find the house ever-so-quiet and know exactly what was happening.
One by one, oldest to youngest, they went into the bathroom to sit and be "talked to" and then 2 smacks on the butt.
As sworn to by the witnesses named above, sometime between leaving the bathroom and clearing the hallway, each and every child walked easier, the tension gone from their faces, heaved a sigh of relief.
Life would be good for another month or so.
You did the right thing for all concerned.
Kudos and catharsis for all.