Student: Hey, Matlock, can I write a whore story?
Me: A what?
Student: A whore story.
Me: About a prostitute?
Student: A what?
Me: I don't understand. What kind of story do you want to write?
Student: A scary story.
Me: Oh. Certainly. Listen, the word has two syllables: Hor-ror ... Hor-ror.
Submitted by: D. Matlock
Student A: Mrs. Bacon. Did you know that bears can run faster than horses?
Student B: Then why aren't we racing bears instead?!
She makes a good point.
Submitted by: Sarah
I worked at one rural school in my hometown for 2 years before moving to a city school and working for a year. I returned to my hometown to attend a summer wedding for a friend. There was a bonfire later in the weekend, and I saw one of my former students there.
Shoot, shoot, shoot, what was her name?
I'd been gone for a year. I'd taught close to 150 students after her. I usually was pretty good with student names, but I was drawing a big ole blank on this one.
Ok, I remember one fact: it had to do with one of the four seasons.
Her hair is a beautiful dark red.
We approached each other. There could only be one guess. "Hey Autumn," I said
Submitted by: Emily Z